


Lives Entangled

by Noppoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Inspired by Tangled (2010), they might be a bit ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-12-27 17:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12085380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noppoh/pseuds/Noppoh
Summary: Hermione has been living in a tower her entire life. When Draco crosses her path, she takes her chance to go out and see the world. But why does she seem so familiar to Draco? And why has she been locked up in that tower in the first place?





	1. When will my life begin?

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my lovely Beta and cheerleader Filisgare. She inspired me, motivated me, and kept me writing. Many, many thanks.
> 
> Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling, all things Tangled to Disney.
> 
> Updates will be irregular.

**xXxHermionexXx**

With a sigh, Hermione looked around the circular room, wondering what to do next. To say she was bored would be an understatement. She thought her brain would shrivel and die if she didn’t find anything to do any time soon. 

“Perhaps without a brain I wouldn’t be aware enough to actually feel bored,” she mused to her cat, Crookshanks. “Now there’s something to think about.”

She sprawled on the newly cleaned floor and petted her beloved familiar and often only companion, as he curled himself on her stomach and started purring. The philosophical question “if one would be able to be bored without a brain“ kept her occupied for a total of 15 minutes, before deciding that, no, it was not possible. Another 15 minutes were spent wondering if that was because one would simply not care, or because one would be immensely distracted by just about everything.

“I guess a lot depends on how one would define ‘no brain’,” she said out loud. 

Crookshanks merely stretched and hopped of her stomach to lie in a patch of sun near the shelves upon shelves of books. Hermione sat up and once more looked around the room.

“When on earth will my life ever begin?” she lamented. “Nothing ever happens here, Crooks! Never! Every day is the same: get up, brush my teeth and wash my face. Clean up the kitchen, even though it has been cleaned the day before, and prepare breakfast. Clean the kitchen again. Sweep the floor and get rid of the infinitesimal amount of dust that gathered during the night. Figure out something else to do for the rest of the day. Really Crooks, I’m going crazy!”

She stood up and grunted in annoyance as her hair snatched on something.

“And this hair!” she continued her rant. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to brush it? I should have added it to my list of boring things to do each day, twice each day, actually. I’m sure it’s well over ten meters long! Ugh!”

Her cat merely meowed once and flicked its tail. Hermione walked over to one of the many windows of her tower. She looked at the forest and mountains that surrounded her. The summer was well on its way and wildlife could be heard all around. For some time, she watched the birds fly through the branches of the nearby trees and listened to the gurgling sound of the stream sheltered by them. 

“When Aunt Ellis returns I will ask her,” Hermione promised. “I turn 18 next week, surely I’m old enough to go outside now? If I ask for it as my birthday present, she won’t be able to deny my, now would she?”

She walked over to Crookshanks and picked him up. He made a disgruntled noise, being lifted from his cosy, sunny spot. 

“Now, what shall we do today, Crooks?” Hermione asked him. “Paint, bake or read?”

xXxXxXx

Hermione’s days continued much in the same, boring fashion. Every day she went through her chores, only to end up with nothing left to do well before mid-day. When it rained, she faithfully hung a bucket on the hook outside of the tower. Without her aunt present, it was her only means of getting water. When she was younger, she had once forgotten to collect it. She had been thirsty for days.

“She should be back today or tomorrow, Crooks.” Hermione was once more laying on her back on the wooden floor. She was trying to find an empty spot on the ceiling or walls for her newest painting. “And I will ask her, I really will. I really, really will!”

Deep down, she knew she was only trying to convince herself, trying to gather enough courage. Her aunt had always told her - no, warned her - that the outside world was an ugly and cruel place. According to her aunt, there was nothing worth seeing out there. Hermione begged to differ but when she did so out loud, Aunt Ellis would tell her she was too young to understand, too naïve.

However, with all the time in the world, and an inquisitive brain that had nothing else to do but think, Hermione started questioning her aunts teachings. The books she brought back from her trips to the outside world must have come from somewhere interesting? The same applied to the paint and the paintbrushes. She would bring back vegetables; how did they grow? Who harvested them? 

Of course, she had all the theoretical knowledge. She devoured every book her aunt brought back, be it on math, physics, languages, cooking, farming, geography or history. There was no end to her curiosity, but she wanted the actual knowledge.

She wanted to see it all, see it in real life: the practical applications of the knowledge she had accumulated, the beautiful places her books described to her. She wanted to talk to the people who had written those books, talk to the philosophers that questioned her beliefs . How hard would they be to find? Given the fact that, other than her aunt, she had never seen anybody wander into their little valley, and given the amount of uninhabited forest she could see around her, there couldn’t be too many people in the world, right?

“Hermione!”

Hermione shot up when she heard her name being called, throwing Crooks from his spot on her stomach.

“She’s back, Crooks, auntie is back!” 

Her familiar ignored her, grumpily crawling under a cabinet. Hermione ran to the window looking out over the single path that lead to the tower, and waved at her aunt. She had been gone a full week.

“I’m coming up, make sure there’s nothing on top of the hatch, dear.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Once, only once, had she forgotten that she had placed a bunch of books on the hatch that lead to the stairs out of the tower. She had been sound asleep when her aunt returned and it had taken over an hour, and a lot of pounding and yelling from her aunt, before she even realised there was a problem. Of course, Aunt Ellis never let her forget it.

“Welcome back!” Hermione beamed as Ellis’ wavy, black hair came into view. Quickly she took over the bags and rucksacks her aunt was carrying. 

“Hello there, dear. Do make me a cup of tea, I’m exhausted.”

“Yes, Aunt.”

She hurried over to the kitchen, dropping the bags on the counter and putting on some water for the tea.

“Don’t just drop those bags there, ‘Mione, sort them out. I don’t want any jars broken or liquids spilled.”

“Of course.” She busied herself with unpacking the many bags. “Did you carry all this on your own? It’s heavy!”

“Only for you, dear. There’s a new book in there somewhere as well.”

Hermione beamed at her aunt and started digging. “Aunt, are these the ingredients for the dog-disease cure?”

“Yes, and enough for some typical salves and syrups.” Ellis answered just as Hermione found her book and started leafing through it. “You know how long it takes to make the dog-disease cure, dear, you better start working on it right away.”

Hermione looked from her book to her aunt and back. With a sigh, she relented. “I’ll read you tomorrow,” she solemnly promised the book as she put it on a shelf.

“Don’t talk to inanimate objects, Hermione. I would start thinking you have gone crazy, and we can’t have that, now can we? How’s the tea coming?”

“The water is almost boiling.”

“Well then, come over here and put that hair to good use.”

“Yes, aunt.” She wrapped her hair around her only living relative and sat down at her feet, allowing it to glow. “Aunty?” she started.

“What is it?”

“I was thinking about my birthday. Since I’m turning 18, I mean, I’m all grown up now, right?”

“What’s this about girl? Stop your rambling.”

“As a birthday present, this year, I wasn’t thinking about a book or more paint, but, can I go outside? Just for a bit? Go to the village with you one time?” 

She looked up to her aunt, hope evident in her eyes. Ellis was staring down at her, her eyes narrowed, before her features softened.

“Hermione, dear, haven’t I told you often enough that the outside is dangerous and ugly? Why would you ever want to venture out there? Now go fix my tea, I’m sure the water is ready by now.”

Rearranging her hair, Hermione once more did as she was told.

“But Aunt Ellis, I just want to see for myself. Not that I don’t believe what you are saying, but, you know, I want to see what I’ve been reading about.”

“I’ve told you time and time again, those books are romanticising what’s really out there. They make it all look pretty while it isn’t. You wouldn’t want to see it.”

“But, it’s just –“

“No!” Hermione jumped at the sudden angered tone. Ellis walked over to Hermione and cupped her cheeks. “Don’t you trust me? Don’t you believe what I’m saying? I really do know best, my dear. I’ve been out there.”

Hermione let out a sigh. “Yes, Aunt Ellis, of course I believe you.”

“Now, what would you like to have for your birthday? I can bring something back when I sell the cures you’re about to make?”

“I’m not sure, I’ll think about it and let you know.”

Ellis kissed the top of her head. “That’s my girl. Now let’s have that tea, shall we?”

**xXxDracoxXx**

Draco laughed as he rushed through the forest at full speed, ducking under branches and guiding his trusted horse to jump rocks and fallen trees. He could hear the shouts and cursing from his pursuers. They seemed relentless in their pursuit, determined to catch him no matter what. He knew he had already lost a couple of them along the way. 

No matter how exhilarating the chase was, he was starting to get wary of it. He knew he was on one of the less travelled parts of the forest, so he started looking for a game trail he could use to mislead his band of followers. Spotting one, he took a sharp turn and slowed his horse to a walk to make less noise. Looking over his shoulder, he watched the group of guards rush past, intent on following the main path.

He smirked.  _ Idiot Muggles. _ He looked around.  _ It probably isn’t a good idea to get back to the road though, in case they turn back. _ With a shrug, he decided to follow the game trail for a little while, knowing that if he got lost, he could always Apparate. It wasn’t recommendable with a horse, but manageable. 

Pragmatism lead to curiosity as the trail seemed to lead him to a mountain gorge. His curiosity only rose when he spotted faded footprints. He dismounted to lead his horse by hand when the forest became too dense. It whinnied in protest as they pressed through the shrubbery next to a stream.

A gasp escaped him as he finally broke through, the sight of the beautiful valley literally took his breath away. He watched as birds flew through the canopy of the forest that stretched to his right, only to soar high and disappear along the ridges of the steep rock wall to his left. The stream continued straight on for a bit, through a meadow overflowing with white and blue flowers, before curving away and disappearing into the trees. The valley seemed to be shaped much like a bowl, surrounded by mountains on all sides.

He was lost in awe, until a hard shove in his back nearly sent him sprawling. His horse gave him a disdainful look as it freed itself from the bushes, as if the sight was nothing new to him and Draco forgetting about him was a capital offence. Draco glared at him. Nix had been a gift on his 18 th birthday and had turned out to be a stubborn, self-righteous menace. Even now, five years later, Draco sometimes wondered if the horse would ever simply  _ listen _ to him. He guessed not.

Huffing at his horse, which languidly started grazing, he grabbed the reins and mounted. An irregularity caught his eye. Looking more closely, he could see the tip of a roof just above the treetops. Curiosity once more rising, he set out to follow the trail further into the valley.  _ At least that explains the footprints, _ he thought to himself.

After a ten minute walk, he was once more shocked at the sight before him. Who would ever have thought a tower – of all things possible – would be standing on its own in the middle of a remote valley? But there it was, at least five stories high, made out of a weathered grey stone, dotted with lichen and small plants. It had a strong base, narrowed at its centre, and tapered out again at the top. The roof was made out of wooden tiles.

He blinked when he saw a figure sitting idly at the biggest window. She was reading a book, impossible long hair flowing freely in the wind, and blissfully unaware of his presence. He took a moment longer to take in the hair that almost reached the bottom of the tower.  _ That can’t be comfortable _ , he thought.  _ Why on earth would anybody let it grow that long? _

He studied the figure a bit longer. From the distance she seemed rather young. Her posture hinted that she was used to sitting in that spot, not afraid of the height at all. The way her neck was curved and her leg pulled up gave her a graceful look.  _ Well, I was planning on avoiding Binache’s men for a while, why not do it in company? _ A slow smile crept up his face.

Draco turned to his horse. “You stay here,” he spoke firmly.

Nix turned his head and gave his owner a look that could only be interpreted as defiant. 

“Seriously,” Draco warned, wagging his finger, “don’t you dare wander off.” 

It wouldn’t be the first time he had to make a quick escape, only to find Nix had decided to take a stroll. The horse, however, seemed unimpressed, completely ignoring Draco and continuing his grazing. 

Draco narrowed his eyes. “If you even move a hoof, I’ll gladly let the wolves eat you.”

As if summoned, a wolf howled from somewhere in the mountains. Draco smirked evilly. Nix threw his head back and seemed to understand. Satisfied, Draco turned and walked closer to the tower.

“Good morning, milady,” he spoke up, raising his voice a little so it would carry to the top of the tower. “I am surprised to find someone this remote from civilisation. Would you honour me by giving me your name?” 

He made a small bow, and waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, he peered up at the figure high above him. She simply turned a page and continued reading. Was she ignoring him? Or did she simply not hear him? Opting for the latter (the first option was inconceivable, if not impossible) he tried again, louder this time.

Again, no response came. He narrowed his eyes and glared up. It seemed she hadn’t moved an inch, still intent on her book. He half had the mind to go pull on her hair to get her attention, but figured that wouldn’t be the best introduction he could make. No, he would look for a door and go upstairs.

Circling the tower, he came up empty. Confused, he circled it again, looking for signs that the door might be hidden. He encountered nothing but solid rock. There must be stairs somewhere. He circled a third time, just to be sure. There was no indication of a door or a stairwell at all. Walking backwards until he could look up at the window again, he decided to give up on chivalry.

“Hey! You there!” he yelled. He sighed when she didn’t even flinch.  _ She can’t be that immersed in her book.  _ He pondered the lack of response and the baffling absence of stairs. _ Of course!  _ he finally thought. _ She’s magical! She’s using a silencing charm and she probably just Apparates up there. Makes sense if you have children, they can’t just run off into the forest. _

He wondered about his next move. He could try to break her silencing charm, but that would just be plain rude. Besides, she might just think he was attacking her. Not such a great idea. No, he would simply Apparate up there and introduce himself. 

Decided upon his course of action, he took a moment to straighten his appearance. He ran a hand through his hair, making it look fashionably tousled, and brushed wrinkles out of his jacket. To his horror, he noticed there were some leaves stuck on his shoulders. Thank Merlin she didn’t spot him before!

Grabbing his wand, he concentrated on the bit of interior he could see through the window, and Apparated inside. 

“Good morning, milady -”

A shriek interrupted him. He looked up from the small bow he was making, just in time to see a book flying at his head, closely followed by the tell-tale red light of a stunner.

**xXxHermionexXx**

Hermione scurried away as the  _ thing _ that suddenly appeared next to her dropped to the ground. Crookshanks was hissing from under a closet, and she went to retrieve him. He continued hissing from the safety of her arms.

Keeping a safe distance, Hermione studied the  _ thing _ . She cringed as she saw her book lying open on the floor, pages down. Her first instinct was to throw something at the sudden apparition, and the only thing at hand was her book, her poor, poor book. 

“Do you- do you think that’s a man?” she whispered to Crookshanks, afraid that it would wake up if she talked too loud.

The cat didn’t respond, content to glare at the intruder.

“I have to go save my book, Crooks, I can’t just leave it like that.” She put him on the ground. “Do you think it is safe?”

Crookshanks looked up to her, meowed, and carefully approached the figure. After sniffing it for a bit, he sat down and started licking his paw. Hermione figured that meant the - possibly human - thing wasn’t going to wake up.

Grabbing her courage, and wrapping her hair around herself so she could make a quick escape if necessary, she tiptoed towards the window to pick up her mistreated book. 

“I think it  _ is _ a man,” she wondered out loud. 

Still holding on to her book, she crouched down and carefully poked him. He was lying mostly on his stomach, one arm trapped underneath him, the other stretched to the side. She poked at him again. Encouraged by his lack of response, she started studying him more carefully.

He was wearing something she remembered were called trousers. Tugging at the fabric with one hand, she doubted that anybody could find that particular piece of clothing comfortable. She pulled at his vest to reveal a linen shirt underneath. Typical male clothing, or so her books told her. She padded to his other side to see his face. 

“Have you ever seen hair this light?” Hermione asked Crooks. Her cat walked over and sniffed the man’s face, as if contemplating her question. He meowed, and sat back down to continue his grooming.

Hermione reached out to touch the man’s hair. She thought it would feel coarse, like hay or straw, but was surprised at how soft it felt. She stroked it a bit longer in wonder. After having satisfied her curiosity about the weird hair colour, she wiped all of it out of his face so she could see him better. She decided he looked handsome, even though she had no other men to compare him with.

“Don’t you think he’s handsome, Crooks? I do. I think he’s good looking.” She skimmed her fingers over his cheek, encountering a roughness she hadn’t expected. “I think he has facial hair, Crooks!” she exclaimed.

The man grunted, prompting her to grab her book and smack it on his head in fright. Crookshanks hissed, his fur standing up.

“Oh no, I’m going to damage my book if I keep doing that!” she proclaimed, inspecting it for damage but finding none. “What am I to do Crooks? What if he wakes up? What if he’s dangerous? Aunt Ellis says that strangers are violent, and that they would hurt me. He doesn’t look dangerous, now does he?”

She looked at her familiar, and then around the room, in search for a solution. “I have it,” she declared, spotting a chair. “I’ll just have to tie him up, that way, he can’t do anything. But what to tie him up with? I wonder if we have some rope…”

Crookshanks chose that moment to stretch out a claw towards her hair, and yank on it.

“Crooks! No! You know you’re not allowed to- Oh, I see. You clever boy!”

She put the chair closer to the unconscious man, and tried to lift him onto it.

“Are all men so heavy?” she complained. “This one doesn’t look fat, but boy, he must eat like a horse to weigh this much!”

Finally, she managed to put him on the chair and tie him to it with her hair. For once, she was happy that it was so long; it allowed her to stay well out of reach even with most of it wrapped around him. He seemed completely harmless to her. Why was her aunt so adamant that all outsiders were dangerous?

She picked up her book and walked back to the window. Looking out, she saw what she presumed was his horse, grazing. An idea came to her.

“If he’s from the outside world, he can take me back there. Do you think he would be willing to take me with him?” she wondered out loud, looking at him over her shoulder. “Only for a day or two? Auntie will be gone for at least another four days. What do you think Crooks? Should I ask him?”

Her cat jumped on the man’s lap and sat down, looking at him. Hermione interpreted it as a ‘yes’.

“Ok. Alright. I’ll ask him. He will have to take me with him, or I will not let him go at all! Yes, that’s what I will tell him.”

Hermione nodded to herself and settled down on the window sill. There was no reason why she couldn’t continue her reading while she waited for him to wake up again.


	2. Take me outside!

**xXxDracoxXx**

Draco groaned as the pounding of his head filtered through his unconsciousness, waking him in a rather unpleasant way.  _ I really must ease up on the drinking.  _ It took him a while before his memory came back to him.  _ A book and a Stunner, at least now I know for sure she’s magical. _

Carefully, he tried to open his eyes. He blinked against the light. It aggravated his headache.  _ Why did she have to hit me with that book? Thinking about her, where is she? _ Finally managing to see, he started as he looked into a pair of yellow eyes, outlined with orange fur. 

“Aaaah!” he screamed, recoiling in his chair.

The furball hissed, dug its nails in his legs, and jumped away. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself.  _ Sweet Merlin, I hope that’s not her Animagus form. _ Remembering the woman, he sat up to look for her. It was only then that he realised he was tied up. Instinctively, he struggled against whatever it was that was wrapped around his torso and arms.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to topple over.”

He stopped his struggle and looked up to where the voice had come from. The words were hesitantly spoken, almost fearful. She stood against the light, so he couldn’t see much of her except her petite figure. He studied her for a minute, then followed the flow of her long hair. It lead straight back to him.

“You bound me to a chair with your  _ hair _ ?” 

She took a step back, and he silently berated himself for his sudden outburst. 

“You- you don’t scare me!” she proclaimed shakily.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  _ Yes, that’s believable. _ “My apologies,” he said, “I was merely caught by surprise.” His head was still pounding away. He wished she’d move to a darker part of the room, so he wouldn’t have to look straight into the light pouring in from the window.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

_ Alright, time to charm my way out of this. _ Draco surreptitiously tugged on the hair, wondering if he could get rid of it magically.  _ Probably not. _

“Good morning,” he said, putting on his trademark Malfoy smile. “My name is Draco Malfoy. I would bow to honour you, but I’m currently restricted in movement.” He hoped his annoyance didn’t leak into his voice. 

She tilted her head to the side. “What are you doing here?”

“I was -”  _ Probably best not to tell her I was running from some henchmen trying to catch me. _ “I was exploring the forest and stumbled upon this lovely valley. When I saw you sitting in the window, I could not resist the urge to introduce myself.”  _ Which resulted in you knocking me out and tying me up. Best not mention that either. _ He kept up his most charming smile.

“What do you want from me?”

He couldn’t help himself, he smirked. “A conversation,” he answered, giving his voice a suggestive tone.

“Oh,” she answered, “Really? You came all the way up here because you wanted to talk? Why didn’t you shout up to me?”

Draco blinked. Was she really that naïve? He needed to see her face, see her body language to make sure. “Milady, I did shout up, several times, but you didn’t respond.”

She ducked her head. “I tend to get caught up when reading, I know,” she mumbled.

“Milady, would you be so kind as to walk away from the window?” he dared ask. “Your book has given me quite the headache.”

After a moment of hesitations, she stepped to the side. The first thing he thought as he finally saw her up close, was that she looked familiar.

“Have we met before?” He doubted they had, he would definitely remember the hair, but something nagged at him.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

_ Hmm, odd. _ She was clutching her book to her chest. He eyed it warily, not wanting to get hit with it again. Now that he could properly see her, he had to re-evaluate his earlier assessment; she wasn’t petite but had a slim build. She was wearing a light blue dress, just below the knees, with cap sleeves. With her hair over one shoulder, he could see the long neck that had bent so elegantly over her book earlier. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made her look so familiar to him. Mentally, he shrugged, no point in mulling it over. 

_ Let’s get back to the charming. _ “Miss, rarely have I seen such beauty as yours.”  _ Which is kind of true, she looks breathtakingly beautiful.  _ “Would you do me the honour of telling me your name?”

She looked at him for a long time. He felt like an animal in a zoo, with her studying him. “Hermione,” she finally said.

“Hermione …” He let her name end in a question, wanting to know her surname.

“Just Hermione.”

_ Odd. Despite the fact that this is a godforsaken, extremely remote part of the country, even the peasants here have surnames. _

“Well then, Miss Hermione, would you be so kind as to unwrap your hair from around me?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other, looking nervous. Her blasted cat was weaving around her legs, occasionally glaring at him.

“Would you care to elaborate why not?” He couldn’t help the touch of coldness that crept in his voice.

Hermione straightened her shoulders, a look of determination on her face. “You and I have a deal to discuss,” she said.

Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. “A deal?”

“Yes, a deal. You see, I want to get out of this tower, go out and see the world. You want a conversation. So … you will take me to see the world for a day or three, and I will converse with you.”

“Excuse me?”

She drew herself up a little higher. “Did you not understand? You take me with you and I’ll talk with you as much as you like.”

For a long time, Draco merely stared at her, looking for a hidden meaning. There was no way she was actually serious, was there? Take her out to see the world? In three days? In exchange for a conversation? That made no sense whatsoever.

“You want to get out of this tower?” he finally asked.

“Yes.”

“Then, why don’t you, you know, go outside?” He really didn’t understand what she was on about.

Hermione blushed and looked away from him. “My aunt says it’s dangerous. I’ve never actually been outside. And I don’t want to get lost or something. But I just turned 18, and she’s still refusing to let me go anywhere with her. I’m tired of it. I’m going crazy here! I want to see what I’ve been reading about.” Her speech had been growing in intensity towards the end. She snapped her head back up and looked him dead in the eye. “So  _ you _ are going to take me, whether you want or not!” She faltered. “Uhm, I mean, uhm, I, please?”

He gaped at her. “You’ve never been outside?”

“No.”

“Not even once?”

“No.”

“You have never felt the grass below your feet or stood in the stream just outside the tower?”

“No. You don’t have to rub it in, you know.”

“How many people do you know?”

“One. Well, two, if I count you.”

Draco could not comprehend what she was telling him. How awful was this aunt of hers? To never let her outside?

“Why have you never gone outside when your aunt isn’t here? You could have kept the tower in sight.”

“She locks the hatch to the stairs when she leaves.”

“What stairs?”

“Surely, you used the stairs to get up here? I doubt you climbed the tower.”

He was confused, thoroughly, thoroughly confused. There were no stairs, he was sure of it. Why would she believe there were? Why would her aunt make her believe there were? Unless…

“You threw a Stunner at me.”

“I did what?”

“When you knocked me out, you threw a Stunner at me.”

She looked annoyed. “What are you talking about? I hit you with a book.”

_ Well that confirms my theory. _ Apparently, her aunt didn’t want her to know she’s magical. The aunt probably was and used the ‘stairs’ excuse to Apparate out. He pondered on what to do next. Explaining his theory was bound to make her think he’s crazy. With a sigh, he grasped the only possible explanation she would believe.

“Actually,” he said, ‘I did climb the wall. That is how intrigued I was, and still am, by you.” He put his charming smile back on. She did intrigue him, he wanted to know what this was all about. “Ok, you win. I will take you to see the world.” It was only three days, after all.

“Really?” She positively glowed with happiness. 

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, really. Now, if you wouldn’t mind?” He shook his arms, indicating that he was still tied up.

“Oh, yes, yes, of course.”

She walked over to him, but he could see she was still skittish. 

“I’m not going to bite you or something, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” he said teasingly. Her arms tightened around her book. “And please don’t hit me with that thing again,” he added, eying the offending item.

“It’s a book,” she said haughtily while unwrapping her hair. “And a very good one, if I may say so.” She skittered back as soon as he was able to stand. 

He rubbed his arms to get his blood flowing again. “What is it about?” he asked. When he turned around to face her, he was taken by surprise at the sheer amount of books against the far wall. He hadn’t seen them when he Apparated in, too focused on Hermione. 

“The politics in ancient China,” she responded, carefully putting the book on a shelf.

“Such a heavy subject,” he commented. He went to stand next to her and took a look at the books. She tensed, but didn’t move away. If he had to wager a guess, he would say she was a Gryffindor, or perhaps a Ravenclaw, given the amount of knowledge that was in front of him.

“It’s interesting,” Hermione defended herself.

Draco shrugged. “Well, there’s no time like the present. Let’s get going.”

“What?” she squealed.

“I thought you wanted to see the world? There’s no use in staying any longer here.” He delicately raised an eyebrow, amused at her sudden nervousness. It was understandable, given the fact that she’d been cooped up in this tower her entire life, but he wanted to test exactly how strong her resolve was.

“Yes, you are right, no need to wait.” She was aimlessly wandering around the circular room. “I just need to write a note in case my aunt comes back early, and pack some provisions. Yes, we can leave now, we should leave now.” She turned towards him. “You climb back down the tower, I’ll be down in a minute.”

“And how exactly do you plan on getting down?” he asked her.

She pointed at a hook at the end of a beam on the outside of the tower. “I’ll use my hair. Now off you go, don’t leave without me.”

Shaking his head at her behaviour, he stepped on a window ledge and took a hold of the outside wall next to it. As soon as he was out of sight, he Apparated to the ground. Nix came over to greet him.

“I see you haven’t been eaten by wolves yet,” Draco commented. 

The horse bumped him against the shoulder rather harshly, before returning to his grazing. Draco laughed.

“We’ll have a companion for the rest of our trip, boy,” he continued. “If she doesn’t freak out after the first couple of hours, that is.” Draco sat himself down to wait for Hermione.

**xXxHermionexXx**

Both excitement and fear coursed through her as Hermione rushed around the tower. 

“We’re leaving, Crooks! We’re finally leaving! I need to write a letter to aunty, and pack some stuff. I should pack food, no? And clothes, should I pack clothes? What about my books? I mean, shouldn’t we have all possible knowledge at hand? Crooks, what do you think?”

Her cat was sitting in the middle of the table, calmly looking at her running around.

“You’re not helping, Crooks,” Hermione lamented, gabbing parchment, feather and ink. She tickled her chin with the feather.  _ What to write? _

_ “Dear Aunt, _

_ If you read this, you’ve returned early, or I’ve returned late. Either way, there is no need for you to worry.  _

_ I have decided to go outside. I know you said it was dangerous, but I have a man, whom I think is just a bit older than me, to accompany and protect me. He agreed on showing me the world in exchange for some good conversation. Given all the lovely books you have provided for me, I’m sure I’ll be able to meet my end of the bargain. _

_ It’s only for a couple of days. I’ll see you again soon. _

_ With Love, _

_ Hermione’ _

“There, now she knows not to worry if she finds the tower empty.” Hermione smiled to herself as she reread her letter. “We’re going on an adventure, Crooks!”

She grabbed a bag and quickly filled it with an extra dress, the bread she’d baked the evening before, some fruit and some vegetables. After giving her books a longing look, she decided to leave them. They were safer in the tower. Crookshanks eyed her warily when she approached him.

“Sorry, Crooks, but you’ll have to get in the bag as well. I won’t be able to get you down otherwise.”

The cat hissed at her.

“Oh, don’t be such a cry-baby, it’s only for a little while. I’ll let you out as soon as we’re down. Don’t you want to run in the grass as  well?”

He glared at her a little longer, before haughtily allowing Hermione to pick him up.

“There you go, good kitty.” 

Hermione ignored the growls that were coming from within the bag. She walked over to the window where she could use the hook to let herself down and took a deep breath.

“I can do this, I can do this!” 

Gathering up her courage, she swung her hair around the hook and started lowering herself. Just before she touched ground, she hesitated. What if it was too dangerous? What if something bad would happen? How would the grass feel under her feet? Would it hurt? Was that why everybody wore shoes? Why didn’t she have any shoes? Was she certain this was the right thing to do? How angry would her aunt be?

“Chickening out?”

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. “No!” she replied.

“Sure looks like it.”

Hermione ignored him and gently put her right foot on the ground. The grass felt unlike anything else she had ever felt. It prickled her feet and poked between her toes. She had expected it to be moist under her feet as a result of squishing it, but it was dry, almost crisp. 

Carefully she took a couple of steps. The ground beneath the grass was uneven, bumpy, not anywhere near as smooth as the wooden boards of her tower. When she turned, she saw that the grass didn’t spring back up, she could see where she had walked.

Joy bubbling up inside her, she threw her arms open and started running in circles around the tower. When she ran past Draco, he gave her an incredulous look.

“Run with me!” she shouted at him. 

She almost missed the dry ‘No thanks’ he gave in reply. She decided to run towards the water she had been hearing all her life, but had never actually seen. With experience, she gathered up her hair around her, and ran through the trees that obscured her view.

Hermione revelled in the change of texture under her feet. The grass gave way to dried leaves and a spongy type of ground. She happily bounced along, following the sound of water. Once at the bank of the stream, her feet sinking into the mud, she stopped.

“Enjoying yourself?”

She looked over her shoulder at his dry tone. “It’s pretty!” she hushed, looking back at the flowing water. “And look! My feet are all brown.”

Draco facepalmed. “I can see that. Most people would try to avoid it…”

“Why? It’s fun!”

“It’s considered dirty.”

“Oh.” For a moment her face fell, before it lit up again. “Well, I don’t care, I like it.”

“I would suggest you go stand in the water to rinse it off. Before you get stuck there and have to spend the rest of your life in that one spot.”

She looked at him, eyes wide. “I can get stuck here?”

Draco smiled evilly. “Most definitely.”

Panicking, Hermione pulled her feet out of the mud and ran into the water, nearly falling when the pebbles shifted under her feet.

“It’s cold!” she protested.

“That tends to happen with mountain streams.”

“And wet!”

“No, really?” He rolled his eyes.

“There, happy now?” Hermione lifted her feet from the stream to demonstrate that they were once more completely clean.

“Immeasurably. Now let’s head back.”

Hermione followed him on their way back to the clearing around the tower, asking question after question after question. Is tree bark always this rough? Why is the ground so spongy? Do all forests smell like this? What plant is this? Are there any animals out here? She was firing them so rapidly, Draco didn’t even have the time to respond.

At the clearing, Hermione could see that Crookshanks had crawled out of the bag and was in a staring contest with Draco’s horse. 

“You’re taking that cat?” Draco asked, incredulous.

“Of course,” Hermione answered. “You’re not suggesting I leave him behind, do you? He’s my friend!”

“You can’t bring a cat!”

“Draco Malfoy, I will bring my cat and you better deal with it!” 

Again that strange sense of recognition struck him. He looked at the determined look on her face and sighed in resignation. “Whatever. He’s your responsibility. Now, where do you want to go?”

“I get to choose?” she responded.

“You’re the one wanting to see the world, aren’t you?”

Hermione thought. There were so many thing she read about, so many things she wanted to see.

“I know!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I read about this magnificent library in a city that is called Prague.” She beamed up at him.

He stared at her. “A library? You can finally go see the world, and you want to go see a library?”

“Yes.”


	3. Magic?

**xXxDracoxXx**

Draco couldn’t understand, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand.  _ A library? She wants to go see a library? _

“Let’s- Let’s just get out of this valley first, alright? We’ll talk about our destination this evening.”  _ A library?! _

“Ok.”

He went to grab Nix’ reins. “Come on.”

_ What have I gotten myself into? _ He watched as Hermione bounded along the path, her ridiculously long hair wound about her, a child-like awe on her face. She stopped to smell a flower, touched trees and leaves and plants alike, sprinted forward, zigzagged across the path and giggled like a six-year-old. He tried warning her about dangerous animals and toxic plants, but nothing seemed to diminish her mad behaviour. Looking behind them, he watched the cat follow along as if it had no care in the world, its tail high in the air.  _ What have I gotten myself into?! _

“Through here,” he said when Hermione finally stopped running, hesitating where the dense shrubbery obscured the path. “Watch out for the branches.” 

He led Nix a bit further into the forest on the other side, before turning around to look for Hermione. She stood frozen on the path, the orange fur ball rubbing against her legs. He could see she was scared.

“What’s wrong?”

“No- nothing.”

He simply looked at her.

“I can’t see the sky,” she finally whispered.

“It’s still there, don’t you worry,” he responded mockingly, briefly looking up at the canopy. He always found the enclosure of a forest to be soothing. When he looked back at Hermione, she was glaring at him.

“No kidding!” she lashed out, hands on her hips. “ _ It’s still up there. _ What? You thought I might think it disappeared? I’m not stupid you know!” She brushed past him and briskly started walking.

He sniggered and mounted Nix. They trotted to catch up. “Milady, I’m sorry if I offended thee.” He sniggered again, owning him another glare. She jumped slightly in surprise. 

“Why are you on top of your horse?”

This time, he laughed loudly. “It’s a far less tiresome way of travel. Now, if you would stop walking, I can pull you up behind me.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Me? On the horse?”

“Most definitely. You didn’t think I would let you walk all the way, now did you?” He could see on her face that that was exactly what she had thought. She was looking from him, to the horse, to the spot behind the saddle, and back. Finally, a resolve seemed to grow.

“Crooks, come here boy, back in the bag.”

Draco watched with fascination as the cat grudgingly let Hermione handle him. He thought it was a rather comic sight, a furry, orange cat head sticking out of a bag. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.

“Ok,” Hermione said, “how do I get up there?”

“You’re going to have to sit sideways. Put one foot in the stirrup, give me your hand, and Hup!” She squealed as he hoisted her up. “Now wrap your arms around me and don’t fall off.” 

All air left him as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head between his shoulder blades and squeezing with all her might.

“Need … some air,” he managed to breathe.

“Oh, sorry.” 

Her grip eased to the point that he could breathe again. They followed the trail in silence. Slowly, her hold on him lessened even more. When they came to the more travelled path, he turned right, aiming to get back on the main road.

“There he is! Get him men!”

Draco looked over his shoulder and cursed.  _ They’re persistent, I have to give them that. _

“Hold on tight, we’re going to run!”

“What?” 

Hermione screamed as he nudged Nix into a full gallop. Her arms once more turned like vices around his torso. 

“What did you do?” she screamed at him. “Are you a thief?”

“This is not the time!” he yelled back.

“Tell me what you did!”

“Fine! I had an, uhm”  _ How naïve is she, really? _ “an, uhm, affiliation with a nobleman’s wife.”

“A what?”

“You know, we got busted in the bedroom.”

“I don’t understand.”

_ Extremely naïve it is.  _ He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Did your aunt never talk to you about the birds and the bees?”

“Birds? Bees?”

“Right. Never mind. Let’s just say the husband wasn’t very happy when he found us.”

“And now they want to catch you?”

“Yes.” He hoped she would leave it at that and nudged his horse for more speed. “Damn it, Nix! I know you can run faster than that. We’re in quite the predicament here, this is not the time for being moody!”

“You need the horse to run faster?”

“Preferably.”

“I can help with that.”

“What? What are you going to do? Hermione?” He could feel her moving behind him, she even went so far as to let him go completely. “Don’t you dare fall off!” he shouted at her.

“Ready?” she asked, wrapping her arms back around him.

“For what? What are you going to do?”

“Crooks, nails.”

Nix bucked, threw his head up, and sped forward as if the devil was on his heels.

“What? How did you do that?”

He could practically feel her smirk behind him.

“Crookshanks has very sharp nails. I think your horse agrees.”

Draco did not know how to respond to that. He didn’t know if he was supposed to be angry on behalf of his horse, or acknowledge the genius of her solution. In the end, he decided not to comment at all, instead focussing on getting away from his pursuers.

“Damn, persistent Muggles,” he muttered. “If only I could Apparate. But that’s too risky with a horse, a cat and a woman. Plus I would be breaking the Statute of Secrecy if the Muggles saw.” He spotted a rocky outcrop in the distance.  _ Ok, change of plan. _ “Hold on tight, sharp corner coming up.”

He roughly steered Nix around the rock. Whipping out his wand, he touched the top of his head, Hermione’s head, the cat and his horse. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound,” he whispered harshly, before stilling his jagged breath and remaining as still as possible. Thank Merlin this was one lesson Nix had retained, he didn’t even swish his tail. Draco watched the confused Muggles on the path in front of them.

“Where did he go?”

“Did he turn into the woods?”

“He couldn’t just have disappeared.”

“We would hear him if he was thrashing through the woods, he can’t have gone there.”

“Then he can only have gone forward.”

“We’re losing time men, let’s go.”

“Onward!”

A chorus of shouts rose up from the group as the spurred their horses and raced off into the distance. Draco sighed with relief.  _ All in all, that went well. _

**xXxHermionexXx**

Hermione stiffened as Draco tapped a stick on her head and an eerie, cold feeling washed over her. She obeyed as he commanded her not to move and to be silent, realising it would not be good if they got caught. As soon as the men were gone and the feeling dispersed, however, she lashed out.

“What did you do!?” She jumped from the horse and backed away. “What was that? Why didn’t they see us?” Should she have listened to her Aunt after all? Was he dangerous? Was he a criminal?

“ _ Now _ you decide not to trust me?” he asked her. When she didn’t respond, he shrugged. “We better get moving before they decide to turn back.”

“What did you do?” Hermione’s voice sounded shrill.

Draco let out a sigh. “I will explain later tonight, when we set up camp. Now, we really must get going.”

Hermione didn’t move, instead she glared up at him. Did he really think she would simply let it pass? That she would believe him?

“What would you do if I left you behind, princess?” he asked mockingly. “Go see the world on your own? Or go back to your tower? Do you even know the way?”

His words shocked her. She looked around and realised she had absolutely no idea where she was. A panic clutched at her chest. “What have I done?” she whispered.

“You took your chance to get away from that stifling tower. You decided you wanted to go see the world and that’s exactly what you were doing, up until you decided to start mistrusting me. So decide, princess. Will you keep on trusting me until I can explain this evening, or will you keep standing here while I continue on my own?”

Hermione knew she didn’t have much of a choice. Grudgingly, she reached up so he could hoist her back on his horse. They rode on in silence for the better part of the afternoon , switching between walking and trotting to get as much distance between them and the band of pursuers as possible.

Hermione sat behind him thinking until she couldn’t hold her question in any longer. 

“So, what were you doing with that nobleman’s wife?”

“Has your aunt ever talked about,” he gulped, not believing he was actually asking this, “sex?”

“She bought me a book.” There was curiosity in her voice. “So, is it enjoyable?”

“We should start looking for a clearing of sorts.”

“Why?”

“To set up camp.”

Hermione looked at the back of his head for a stunned moment, her previous question completely forgotten. “We’re going to sleep outside?” she exclaimed, dumbstruck.

Draco chuckled. “Of course, what did you expect? Five-star hotels and a buffet for breakfast?”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Yes, we are sleeping outside.”

“But- But isn’t that dangerous?” Hermione looked around at the darkening forest. Sleeping on the ground? With no walls and no roof to protect her? He was joking, right?

“Not if we keep a fire going.” He felt her grip around his torso tighten up. “Don’t worry, I’ve done it loads of times. It will be alright.”

She was dubious about the entire affair but realised, again, that she didn’t have much of a choice. Not long after, Draco steered Nix off the path and to an area where the trees stood a bit further apart, creating a flat area between them.

“Why don’t you go gather some wood for the fire,” Draco told her, “but don’t go too far so you don’t get lost. If something happens, just shout, I’ll be there in a flash.”

Hermione nodded and set off.  _ When building a campfire, use only downed wood, _ she remembered from a book.  _ First you need tinder, twigs and leaves. Secondly, you’ll need kindling. These are small, thin sticks that will catch fire easily, but won’t burn away immediately. Thirdly, you’ll need the actual firewood. These larger pieces of wood will keep your fire burning until well into the night. However, try not to use logs thicker than your wrist. Those are unlikely to burn away completely and will leave traces of your fire in the woods. _

Nodding to herself, Hermione started gathering.  _ No logs thicker than my wrist. _ In her mind, she compared her own wrists to those of Draco.  _ Not a reliable guideline, _ she thought,  _ Draco’s wrists are much bigger than mine. _

While gathering, she surreptitiously kept an eye on Draco. He had relieved Nix from his saddle and bags, and was currently building a fire ring.  _ He really does seem to know what he’s doing. _ Once the ring was ready, he started unpacking the bags, hesitating every so now and then and looking in her direction. She wondered what that was all about.

Her gathering took her further away from camp, obscuring it from view. She could still hear Draco bustle about so she wasn’t afraid. When she finally returned, she looked at the open space in surprise. The area was cleared, rocks and twigs piled on the side. Over the fire circle was a stand with a large pot to cook food over the soon to be campfire. Around it were two sleeping bags and some blankets. There were two bottles partly buried in the ground and vegetables were laid out on a piece of canvas.

“Where did all this come from?” Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. “The saddle bags, of course.”

She eyed the bags with suspicion. That was impossible! The pot alone was too big to fit into them. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll explain later, first, food!”

Finally having something familiar to do, Hermione shot into action. Draco went off to fill the pot with water. (She couldn’t hear a stream, but perhaps his hearing was better than hers.) She diced the vegetables, chopped up the herbs he had laid out, and made a hearty soup which they ate in silence, together with the bread she had brought.

Once they were finished, Hermione’s patience ran out. “Now you will tell me what you’ve been hiding from me!” she demanded.

Draco let out a sigh. “Magic.”

“Magic?”

“Yes.”

Hermione bursts out laughing. “My Aunt says there’s no such thing as magic, except for- No, magic doesn’t exist!”

“Then explain to me how I hid us all from those men?”

“You tapped me with a stick and I felt … icky.” She shivered at the memory.

“It’s called a disillusionment charm.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Another sigh. “You’re magical, you know.”

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. How could he know? She hadn’t used her hair when he was around. Did rumour spread? Is that how he found out?

“You threw a Stunner at me, together with that heavy book of yours,” he continued.

“A what?” she asked in surprise.  _ So, he doesn’t know about my hair? _

“A Stunner. It’s used to knock somebody out, render them unconscious.”

She blinked at him, then shook her head. “I did no such thing!”

“Those books,” Draco said, “at the tower. What are they about?”

Hermione frowned at the sudden change of topic.

“A variety of things: history, arts, politics, mathematics, science, geography. Whatever my Aunt can find.”

“So, nothing about magic?”

“Of course not!” she exclaimed, affronted. “I think I would have known if there were such books in our collection, don’t you think.”

“No Charms, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, or Potions?”

“What is all that about? What are potions?”

“They, uhm, they are brews and salves that help people with all sorts of things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, uhm, there are the basic healing potions, cough syrups, salves for cuts and abrasions, headache relievers. Then there are the more advanced brews, like Polyjuice, Veritaserum, different types of poisons. Things like that.”

“Oh,” Hermione answered, eyes lighting up. “that’s not magical. You’re talking about Medicinal Cooking.”

She watched with amusement as Draco choked in his drink, coughing and spluttering. He looked at her with wide eyes, mouth gaping. “Me- Medicinal Cooking?” he finally uttered.

“Yes, Medicinal Cooking. You know, like cooking soup, but with special ingredients and really important instructions. There’s nothing magical about it, I do it all the time. My Aunt sells them at the market and buys new supplies. This time she asked me to brew the dog-disease cure.”

He was still gaping at her. She started wondering if he was alright. Eventually, he shook his head, his platinum blond hair swinging around his face. “A dog-disease cure? What the hell is a dog disease?”

“Well, according to my Aunt, it makes a person behave like a wolf during the full moon. They think they are a wolf and howl, bark and try to go hunting. The cure prevents them from doing all that.”

His eyes turned distant, as if he was thinking hard. Suddenly they grew wide and he stared at her, shocked. “You can brew Wolfsbane?”

“What is Wolfsbane?”

He shook his head. “I can’t believe this,” he mumbled under his breath. “Ok,” he said to her, “what if I tell you Muggles can’t brew a dog-disease cure?”

“Muggles?”

“Yes, non-magical people.”

Hermione huffed in annoyance. “There is no such thing as magic!”

“Ok, let me prove it to you. Just, don’t get scared.”

She raised an eyebrow at him as he once more pulled that wooden stick of his out of his sleeve. He looked around and finally pointed it at the empty pot. Hermione squealed when it, after a swish, flick and muttered word, started floating in the air.

“How- How are you doing that?”

“Like I said, magic.”

She watched as he transformed the pot into a pan and back.

“This is a wand.” He showed her the stick he was holding. “It guides our magic, focusses it. Each witch and wizard buys a wand at age 11. Each wand is different and works in union with the witch/wizard. Some people can perform magic without a wand, but that’s extremely difficult. Do you believe me now?”

Hermione only stared at him. What she saw, it just couldn’t be real, it couldn’t. There must be another explanation. When Draco conjured a glass out of thin air, she realised there was no denying it. He opened one of the bottles, poured some in the glass and handed it to her.

“Have some wine, you seem shocked.”

Her mind still reeling, she took a sip, and wrinkled her nose. “What’s this?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had any wine before?” Draco laughed.

She shrugged and took another sip. It seemed to calm her nerves and it gave her a warm feeling.

“Now,” Draco said, “do you believe me?”

“Ok, so there might be something like magic,” Hermione reluctantly agreed, “but that doesn’t mean I’m magical. There’s nothing magical about me, except for my hair.” She covered her mouth with a hand.  _ Oh no! I shouldn’t have said that. _

“Your hair?” Draco asked, curious.

“Never mind,” she tried to evade him.

“No, explain,” he insisted.

“Well, you see,” Hermione started hesitantly, “I have special hair. Ever since I was little, I can make it glow, and when it does, it heals people, and makes them younger. When I cut it, however, it loses its ability to glow.”

“You have … healing hair?” Draco said, incredulous.

“Yes. My Aunt said not to tell anybody. People might come and kidnap me for my hair. Not that I ever saw anybody, but still. But you are already magical, so you wouldn’t need my hair, now would you?”

“There are a lot of spells out there, princess, but none of them have the ability to make someone younger.”

_ Oh no, he wants it. He’s going to kidnap me and force me to use it for him. I’m so stupid!  _ She scooted backwards a bit.

“Don’t worry, princess. You’re secret is safe with me and I’m still not going to hurt you.”

She let out a sigh of relieve. “But other than that, there’s still nothing magical about me,” she insisted.

Draco shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Never mind,” he said. “So, about our destination. A library?”

Hermione nodded vigorously. “It’s supposed to be breathtakingly beautiful, filled with ancient books. Can you imagine so much knowledge, available to those who want to read it?”

He snorted. “I thought you wanted to see the world?”

Her enthusiasm faltered slightly. “It’s part of the world, isn’t it?”

“True, but you’re trading books for books.” He thought for a little. “Why don’t we go visit the Seven Wonders of the World?”

“The New ones? Or what’s left of the Old ones?”

“The Magical ones.”

“There are Magical Wonders of the World?” Hermione gushed. She was clapping her hands in excitement. “Really?”

Draco laughed. “Yes, there are. Some are pretty hard to get to though, and one is downright impossible to find, but they do exist.”

“Tell me more!”

He smirked. “No, you’ll see when we get there.” He got up to rummage in the saddle bags. “We’re going to need transportation. Where did I leave my quill and ink, I must send a message to Blaise.”

“Transportation?” Hermione asked. “We have Nix, don’t we?”

“It’s quite a bit too far to reach on horseback, princess,” he answered. He looked up at the sky and whistled.

“Is it really that far?”  _ The world can’t be that big, now can it be? _ “And why did you whistle?”

“Yes, it is really that far,” Draco answered, sitting back down and starting his letter. “And I whistled to summon my owl. He follows me around, he should be here in a minute.”

“Owl?”  _ What does he need an owl for? _

Draco didn’t answer, instead focusing on his letter. At one point he looked up. “Stretch out your arm to the side,” he said.

Frowning, Hermione did as he asked, and was surprised when suddenly an owl swooped in and landed on her arm. “Hi there,” she greeted it.

The owl hooted and fluffed his feathers. She watched it with curiosity. She had often seen owls glide around her tower at night, but she had never seen one up close. He had a round face with black eyes and a curved beak. His feathers were a mixture of shades of brown, with beige and white mixed in. She could feel his talons poking her arm, but they didn’t pierce her skin.

“He’s beautiful,” she whispered, stretching out a hand to pet him.

“Don’t stroke his feathers he might –“

“So soft,” she said, running her fingers over his front and his wings.

“Treacherous bird,” Draco muttered. The owl hooted at him, managing to sound gleeful. Rolling his eyes, Draco attached his letter to the bird’s leg. “This is for Blaise,” he said. “Wait for his answer.”

As if proving a point, the owl gently nibbled Hermione’s ear before taking off, making her giggle.

“You use owls for sending letters?” she asked.

He smiled at her. She stayed with her earlier evaluation, he was really good looking. “Yes,” he answered, “they are really smart birds. Some, however, do have a mind of their own.”

“I like him,” she said, looking up at the sky.

“Yeah,” Draco mumbled, “it seems all my animals like you better than me.” He turned and walked back to his sleeping bag. “We should get some rest. If we want to reach the next town by noon tomorrow, we’ll have to leave early.”

“Ok,” Hermione agreed, burying herself in the bag and pulling an extra blanket over herself. “Come on, Crooks,” she called over her cat. He had been teasing Nix, swatting his claws at the horse. “Come on, boy, time for bed.” Crookshanks obediently trotted over to his master, curled up next to her and continued starting at the horse, tail flicking.


	4. Where will we go?

**xXxDracoxXx**

Draco woke with sunrise. For a while he simply watched Hermione sleep. She looked utterly peaceful. He couldn’t believe how naïve she was.  _ Then again, who wouldn’t be when you’re cooped up in a tower for your entire life? _

Her impossible long hair was lying behind her.  _ It glows, heals, and makes people younger? Is that why  that aunt of hers has kept her so isolated? So she could stay young herself? _ He felt strangely protective of the girl, the lingering feeling of recognition only enforcing it.

_ Yes, they would come after her for her hair’s capabilities, but if they kept it secret, there was no reason for the isolation. And why hide the fact that she’s magical. She would be able to defend herself if she knew, now she’s completely defenceless. I can’t allow her to go back there.  _ He decided to really show her around and show her what life was about. Hopefully, that would make her realise what she was missing, what her Aunt was keeping from her, and that it would be foolish to go back to that tower. Yes, he would protect her, keep her safe, and show her the world.

He smiled as she reached out and hugged the orange furball she called a cat. It was part Kneazle, he was certain of it. The animal made a disgruntled noise at the rough handling, but was obviously used to it.

“You can wake her up, it’s time to leave,” he said, feeling silly to be talking to a cat.

To his surprise, however, it seemed to understand, standing up and running its tail under Hermione’s nose. She sneezed and groaned. “Crooks!”

“Good morning, Princess,” Draco greeted. He laughed as Hermione squealed in surprise, tried to jump up, but got tangled in the sleeping bag.

They ate cheese and bread for breakfast, and Draco cleaned up the camp while Hermione brushed her hair. He could feel her eyes on him all the time, curiosity burning now that he was freely using his wand.  _ Why no barrage of questions? _

There was a little commotion when Nix refused to let Crookshanks anywhere near him, the memory of the cat’s nails obviously still fresh in his mind. It took a lot of apologizing and sweet words from Hermione to settle the horse.

As they travelled to the next village, Hermione asked him questions about his life, his childhood, his home, his parents. He answered as much as he could. It surprised him that she seemed to avoid talking about magic, as if talking about it made it more real than it already was. Shrugging, he simply accepted her reluctance, figuring the questions would come once she was ready to ask them.

When the village came into view, he stopped his horse.

“I guess you’ve never been in a village before?” he asked Hermione, looking over his shoulder.

“No.” Her voice betrayed her nervousness.

Draco nodded. “There will be a lot of people, and a lot of noise. It will probably smell bad as well.” He swung his head over Nix’ neck and lightly jumped to the ground. “You just stay seated. Ignore the people, even if they start talking to you. Alright?”

Hermione nodded at him. He grabbed her by the waist and moved her to sit on the saddle instead of behind it.

“There. Blaise wrote that he would stay in a tavern called ‘Deer’s antler’. It will probably have a wooden board with antlers drawn on it, so keep an eye out for that, ok?”

Again, Hermione nodded. He petted her knee. “It will be alright.”

He grabbed Nix’ reins and started walking towards the village. Once they entered, he kept an eye on her reaction. Hermione’s fear quickly turned into awe and a bright eyed curiosity. She seemed to deal with the chaotic atmosphere rather well. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to panic, he started looking for the inn. Spotting it, he bound the reins of his horse to one of the rings on the outer wall, and turned to Hermione.

“I’m going in to find Blaise,” he said. “You stay here until I come find you. Don’t walk off, not even when somebody promises you pretty things. Hell, don’t even step down from the horse.”

Hermione looked down on him. There was a steely glint in her eyes that told him he shouldn’t have said that last part. Eventually, she agreed with a simple ‘ok’ before turning her attention back to her surroundings.

Not really satisfied, but realising it was the best he would get, Draco straightened his clothes and walked into the inn. Immediately it was clear to him that it was one of the finer establishments the village had. Having known Blaise for most of his life, it didn’t really surprise him. With a look around the room, he found the dark skinned man in the far corner.

“Blaise, man, how are you?” Draco greeted his friend.

“You summoned me to a forgotten part of the world, and you ask me how I’m doing? I was entertaining some ladies in wizarding Vienna! You better have a good reason.”

Draco rolled his eyes at the annoyed tone in Blaise’s voice, knowing him well enough to realise he was mostly bluffing. “As a compensation for your hardships you can come pick out a fine bottle of wine at the Malfoy cellars, what do you say?”

Blaise acted as if he was contemplating his offer. “Any bottle you say?”

“Any bottle you want.”

“Alright, an acceptable deal.” Blaise grinned at him. “So, what’s the deal. Why did I suddenly have to come out here? And why did I have to bring a book about braiding hair?”

“Do you have a room here?” Draco asked instead of answering.

“Yes, number 5, second floor,” Blaise answered with a frown.

“I’ll meet you there.”

Turning on his heels, Draco walked back outside. He nearly panicked when he noticed Hermione was no longer sitting on Nix. Hearing her laugh, he swung around and spotted her at the corner of the street. Annoyed, he marched over to her. To his surprise, she was gambling with some men.

“Draco!” she greeted him, smiling broadly. “These men invited me to join in on their game. Look, I even earned some money.” She held up a small bag of coins.

“With what money did you start?” he asked, confusion coming over him.

“Oh, this fine gentleman right here loaned me some. I already paid him back. This is so much fun! It’s a form of statistics.”

Draco watched the faces of the men surrounding them, noticing a mixture of annoyance, wonder and not-so-innocent appreciation.

“Right,” he said, grabbing her arm, “we’ll be going now.” He pulled her away.

“Bye everybody!” Hermione waved at the gambling group.

“What did I say about not leaving the horse?” Draco asked, irate.

“But they seemed so nice.”

He shook his head. “We’ll talk about this later, just don’t talk to strangers anymore, alright.”

“You were a stranger once.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“It just is, alright,” he snapped. “Look, I’ll explain later, first we need to talk to Blaise.”

He could feel her scowl at the back of his head while he dragged her behind him by her wrist. Relief and anger were waging a war in his chest, and he was surprised by how strong his reaction to her temporary disappearance was. Shaking his head, he stomped up the stairs.

“I would ask you to wait here for a moment, but I don’t think I that’s a good idea given your tendency to wander off.”  _ Just like Nix tends to do. Why do I always take on fickle creatures? _

Sighing, he knocked and entered, trying to shield Hermione with his body so he could explain.

“What took you so long mate?” Blaise said, leaning against the far wall. “What is all this about? You’ve been acting secretive and you know how I – Well, hello there.”

Draco knew without looking that Hermione had peeked around him. Resigned, he allowed her to step around him.

“Blaise, this is Hermione. Hermione, meet Blaise, a childhood friend of mine.”

Blaise blinked stupidly as Hermione came into full view.

“I understand about the book, mate,” he said softly, before stepping up to Hermione in two fluid steps. He grabbed her hand and raised it to his mouth. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Hermione. I can see why Draco would try to hide you, your beauty is breathtaking.”

Hermione blushed and giggled. “Nice to meet you too ,” she shyly said.

“Enough of your charm, Blaise,” Draco intervened.

A loud meow and scratching at the door interrupted.

“Crooks!” Hermione exclaimed, rushing to the door to let her beloved cat in.

For once, Draco was happy of its existence. He watched as Hermione settled on the edge of the bed, Crookshanks on her lap, happy to be petted.

“Where did you find  _ her _ ?” Blaise asked, his voice portraying both wonder and appreciation. He tilted his head to the side. “There’s something familiar about her.”

“Long story,” Draco answered, unwilling to share. “We need portkeys.”

“Portkeys? As in multiple? Where do you plan on going?”

“I want to show her the Seven Magical Wonders of the World.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s magical but doesn’t believe it.”

Blaise stared at him. “What’s gotten into you? Why would you care?” he asked.

Not certain how to answer that, Draco merely shrugged. “Well, can you arrange it?”

His friend grinned. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“I know your rates, you thief, don’t even try.”

“But look where I ended up. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to show up?”

“And you’re getting a near priceless bottle of wine for your troubles.” Draco deadpanned. Inwardly, he smiled at their friendly banter.

“As you wish, my Lord Malfoy.” Blaise bowed mockingly.

Draco rolled his eyes at the man. He glanced at Hermione, only to find her avidly watching their interaction. “How fast can you get them?” He turned back to his friend.

“I can get you one to Barcelona by this evening, the others will take a bit longer. Any preference in which order you want to visit them?”

“Not really, just make sure Alexandria is the last one. I’m afraid we would get stuck there otherwise. She sure loves her books.”

Blaise laughed and snuck a look at the girl sitting on his bed.

“Don’t even think about it,” Draco snarled.

“Oi, mate, she’s all yours,” Blaise quickly answered, his hands raised in a defensive motion.

Draco huffed. “So, you think you can braid her hair?”

“What?”

“Can you braid her hair?” Draco repeated.

“Why me? I brought you the book, isn’t that enough?”

“I thought you were a man of the world? Didn’t your fling in Paris love when you played with her hair? How about that brunette you told me about, the one in Brussels? And wasn’t there another one that entertained you in Rome?”

“You have a lot of female friends?” Hermione asked.

Both men whipped their heads around.

“Honey,” Blaise started, “I get plenty of a-” Draco minutely shook his head, stopping his friend in mid-sentence. Blaise coughed. “You could say that, yes,” he eventually answered.

“Must be nice. I only have Crooks as a friend, and Draco of course.” She beamed at them.

Draco ignored Blaise’s raised eyebrow. “Well?” he asked again.

“Not sure, that’s a lot of hair. Let me check the book first.”

“You have a book?” Hermione jumped up, Crooks in her arms. The cat eyed Blaise suspiciously.

Draco gave Blaise a told-you-so look. “Yes, about braiding charms, so we can manage your hair.”

She wiggled her way between them, eager to look at the book on the table. “Braiding charms?”

“Yes, Princess, charms that will braid your hair so you don’t have to wrap it around you all the time.”

“You can do that? That would be wonderful!”

“Why don’t you sit back down, girly,” Blaise said. “We need to study this for a bit first. We don’t want to accidentally turn it pink, now do we?”

“Oh no!” Her eyes went wide as saucers. She quickly returned to sit on the bed.

Both men started studying the diagrams and the different beauty charms.

“Perhaps we should try this one first,” Draco suggested. “A simple, single braid fit for both leisurely days and sport activities.”

Blaise nodded. “Might work.”

They turned to Hermione. “Sit still, Princess,” Draco said, pointing his wand at her.

Crookshanks hissed and went to hide under the bed.

“Are you sure this is going to work? You’re not going to ruin my hair?”

The men looked at each other. “It will be fine, girly, we know what we’re doing,” Blaise lied. “Elegia Nexa Simplex.” They quickly dodged as her hair started wildly flying around the room.

“Finite incantatem!” Draco yelled.

“What happened?” Hermione asked, a tremor in her voice.

“Apparently, this charm is not meant for hair as long as yours,” he answered.

“So you can’t braid my hair?” She sounded sad at the prospect.

“There are more charms we can try, Princess, don’t worry.”

They returned to the book. “Perhaps this one?” Blaise proposed, pointing out another charm. “When you have long hair, you might want to opt for more than one braid. Her hair certainly is long.”

Draco shrugged. “Fine by me.” He turned to Hermione. “Let’s try this again, ok?”

She nodded at him, closing her eyes when he pointed his wand.

“Pluritexo!”

A breeze seemed to waft through her hair. Draco covered his mouth to prevent a snicker when he saw the end-result. Blaise tried to cover up his laugh by coughing.

“What? What is it?” Hermione asked, opening her eyes. “Oh, how absolutely delightful!” She giggled as she ran her fingers through the huge amount of narrow braids that now formed her hair.

“It certainly is … different,” Blaise remarked.

“Yes, yes it definitely is,” Draco agreed, pinching his lips. He thought she looked absolutely hilarious with all those braids. “But still not very practical,” he continued.

“No,” Hermione sighed, “I guess not.”

After another Finite, both men continued their research. Finally they agreed on another charm.

“Not only will it braid the hair, it will also twist the hair into an elegant knot,” Blaise read. “I guess it is worth a try.”

“One more, Princess. Serunt Ac Nodum.”

Her hair flung around as it braided itself. They watched in silence as it started twirling around Hermione, ending up in a bun that covered half her head.”

“I think this is the one, Miss Hermione,” Blaise said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a portkey to arrange.”

“How do I look?” Hermione asked.

Draco walked over to the dresser and retrieved a hand held mirror. “See for yourself,” he said, handing it over to her.

For the longest of time, Hermione stared at her reflection. “This is weird,” she finally said.

“You look different, yes,” he answered. “It accentuates your neckline, you look beautiful.”  _ What did I just say??? _

Hermione smiled broadly at him. “You think?” she asked innocently.

“Yes, I do,” he said, not looking her in the eye. “There’s one more thing though,” he continued. “We’re going to have to leave Nix and your furball behind.”

“What!” Hermione shouted. “I can’t leave Crooks! He’s my friend. I can’t just abandon him!”

“I didn’t say we would abandon them,” Draco tried to calm her. “Blaise can take them to the Manor, to my house. It’s big, he will have lots of things to explore and mice to catch. I’m sure my mother will adore him.”  _ Or order the elves to keep the damned thing as far away from her as possible. Yes, that’s probably more likely. I’ll have to take her out for dinner after dumping this cat on her. _

“But, but…”

“He’ll have a great time, I promise you. He’ll be well taken care off. When we travel around, he’ll have to stay in your bag all the time, and it’s obvious even to me that he doesn’t like it. Don’t you think he’d rather run around somewhere else? We will pick him up after our tour of the Wonders.”

“You really think it’s for the best?” she asked sadly.

“Yes, I really think so.”

“Oh, ok.”

He was surprised at how easily she gave in. Not wanting to jinx his luck, he walked to the door. “I conveniently forgot to mention this last bit to Blaise, so I’m going to tell him now. Please do not leave the room We’ll explore the city later.”

“Alright,” Hermione answered, crouching on the floor and trying to coax Crooks from under the bed.

Relatively certain she would stay put to cuddle her cat, Draco went out to catch up with Blaise. To say that the man was not amused would be an understatement, but he agreed to transport the animals to Malfoy Manor.

“You are taking the blame for this, Draco!” he warned his friend. “If your mother is displeased by this, I’ll tell her where she can find you and run in the opposite direction!”

“I can’t blame you for that, mate,” Draco grinned.

As promised, he took Hermione to see the village later that day. The girl was mesmerized by absolutely everything; from the simple cobblestones, to the trinkets in the shops, to the statue that was the village square’s fountain.

Amused, he tried to answer as many of her never ending questions as he could. She skipped through the streets like an over-excited schoolgirl. To the bewilderment of a lot of the villagers, she greeted and waved at almost everybody she saw. He warningly glared at more than one overly-interested man. Luckily, they all backed away quickly enough.

To his own surprise, he was having a great time. Seeing how happy she was made him happy as well. He regretted the sun going down, forcing them to return to the inn. They ate a hearty meal together with Blaise before heading to his room.

“Here’s your portkey,” he said, handing over a roll of parchment to Draco.

“Thanks, mate.”

“Are you sure you’ll get Crooks safely to this Manor you speak of?” Hermione asked, hugging her cat.

“I promise, Miss Hermione, cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to die!” she exclaimed and then turned to whisper into the cat’s fur. “I’m sorry Crooks, I’m sure you’ll have loads of fun there though, you can continue tormenting Nix. I’ll tell you all about the things I saw when I come to get you, ok?” She promptly pushed the cat in Blaise’s arms, sniffing slightly.

“Grab hold of the parchment, Princess.”

Frowning, she did what he asked her. “Why? What does this portkey do exactly?”

“It transports you from one place to another in the blink of an eye.”

Hermione laughed. “That’s impossible! Aaaaah!”


	5. The start of a journey

**xXxHermionexXx**

Hermione screeched and squeezed shut her eyes. She felt as if a hook had grabbed her behind her navel and dragged her in circles. The feeling was downright dizzying and nauseating. How Draco managed to laugh through it, she did not understand.

Her feet slammed down on the ground and she would have fallen if a pair of strong hands hadn’t grabbed her elbows to steady her. Immediately, she could tell it was a lot warmer than before. There was a strange smell in the air and a true cacophony of noise reached her ears. When she opened her eyes, she saw Draco smirking at her.

“Welcome to Barcelona, Princess,” he stated.

“Impossible,” Hermione whispered. “That’s not possible. How?”

“Magic,” Draco grinned, releasing her elbows to unroll the parchment he was still holding and shrugging to adjust his backpack. “Ah, I see, Blaise booked us a room at a Muggle hotel not far from here.”

She was still staring at him. “We can’t be in Barcelona, Spain, we simply can’t.” Her mind was reeling, this was too much to take in.

Draco seemed to notice, because he once more took hold of an elbow. “You alright, Princess? It’s a lot to take in, I understand. Let’s get to that hotel so you can lay down.”

Hermione meekly followed him as he guided her out of the alleyway they were standing in and into the city. The sights and sounds were overwhelming. There were plants she had never seen before, people with strange clothes on and talking a language she didn’t understand. She walked closer to Draco, glad for his reassuring presence.

“We’re just outside the old city center. We’ll go visit tomorrow, I think we’ve had enough excitement for today,” he said. “I do want to eat some paella tonight.”

“Paella?” she asked, glad to have something specific to focus on.

He started explaining a dish with so many ingredients she had never eaten, that she truly didn’t know what to think about it. When she expressed her doubt, he promised her she would love it. She had no other option but to believe him until they went out for dinner.

Finally, he pulled her off the street and into a building. He left her to sit on a sofa while he went to ‘check in’. She had no idea what that meant, but was happy to stare up at the ceiling and the architecture around her. Never had she seen a building this large. She guessed her tower was big, but this was something else entirely.

“Come on, Princess,” Draco interrupted her musings, “our room is on the first floor.” Once he unlocked the door, she skipped inside, happy to explore the room. Draco groaned behind her. “Of course, a double bed. Damn you, Blaise!”

She turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s only one bed.”

Hermione looked at the bed and back to him, confused. “And?” She tilted her head to the side as his face changed into an expression she didn’t understand. He was … uncomfortable? “Aunt and me sleep together all the time. Especially in the winter, when it gets cold,” she told him.

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“You are both women.”

“So it’s ok for women to sleep together, but not for a woman and a man?”  _ Is he blushing?  _ She didn’t understand the problem at all.

“It is deemed indecent,” Draco finally said. “But we’ll have to make do. Let’s go for dinner and then come back here to wash and sleep.”

Hermione merely nodded, not knowing what to say. The paella turned out to be as heavenly as Draco promised. It took her some time before she managed to peel her own prawns, but she managed. By the end of their meal, she knew the names of all the seafood she had eaten, plus some more. She stopped asking when Draco started to look annoyed.  _ He’s so easy to read. _

She delighted in the claw-footed bathtub and was surprised to see running water. Of course, she pestered Draco until he explained to her how it worked. From his explanation, she gathered he didn’t really know, but she nodded enthusiastically anyway. Once it was time to go to sleep, she saw him divide the bed in two with the extra blankets and cushions they had found in the wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“Dividing the bed,” he answered.

“Why?” She really wondered why he was acting so strange about this. It was only a bed, wasn’t it?

“So we each keep to our own side of the bed.”

Hermione frowned, then shrugged. If that was how he wanted it, she wouldn’t complain . 

Hermione grabbed the hem of her dress, intent on taking it off so she could crawl under the sheets.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” Draco shouted at her.

Frightened, she let the fabric fall back down. “Getting ready for bed?” she answered with a small voice. She watched with trepidation as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” he finally said. “Just, don’t take of your clothes, certainly not in front of a man. Improper doesn’t even begin to cover that.”

“Why?” she asked again. He was acting so strange!

“We are NOT going to have THAT conversation,” he answered. “Please just sleep in your dress. We’ll buy a proper nightgown tomorrow.”

With another shrug, she crawled into bed. So many rules, she thought to herself. Closing her eyes, she ignored Draco’s muttering on the other side of the bed, and swiftly drifted off to sleep.

She woke up sprawled across the bed, with Draco balancing on the far edge. For a moment, she entertained the idea of pushing him off, but quickly decided against it. She crawled out of the bed and rummaged through the backpack in search of her spare dress. Draco mumbled in his sleep and she glanced at him.  _ He looks cute,  _ she thought, smiling.

He woke while she was changing in the bathroom. After an elaborate breakfast, they set out to explore the city.

“What to show you first?” Draco mused out loud.

“There’s more than one Wonder here?” Hermione asked. She was irritated by the fact that he refused to tell her what the different Wonders were.

“No, only one, but there’s one other thing I think you would love to see.” He smiled at her. “Yes, let’s do the other one first.”

Grabbing her hand, he guided her through the streets. The strange smell Hermione had noticed upon arrival seemed to grow stronger. Suddenly the buildings gave way to a seemingly endless expanse of blue. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

Draco made a sweeping motion with his arm. “I present to you, the sea.”

Hermione stared and stared. Of course, she had read about the sea, read authors trying to describe it, but nothing could have prepared her for the view in front of her. Her mind seemed to have gone completely empty as she tried to take it all in. The straight line of the horizon made her slightly uneasy. She understood why people used to think they could fall off the end of the earth.

“Come on,” Draco said, nudging her slightly, “let’s go down to the beach.”

“Beach?” Hermione echoed, still feeling dumbstruck.

“Yes,” he answered, grinning, “loads of sand.”

“Sand?”

Draco started laughing. “The impossible has happened, I have stopped the endless barrage of questions and rendered you speechless.”

She tore her eyes away from the water to glare at him. It only served to make him laugh harder. They were walking down the street and she nearly lost balance when the ground under her feet suddenly gave way. Looking down, she crouched and scooped up some sand, letting it run through her fingers.

“It’s so fine,” she commented.

Looking up, she giggled and started running towards the water. Draco followed suit. She ran into the waves until they lapped around her ankles. Once more bending down, she dipped her hand in the water and licked her fingers.

“It really is salty,” she said in awe.

“Of course it’s salty,” Draco commented from a bit behind her.

He refused to get his shoes wet. No matter how she whined and pleaded, he absolutely refused to take them off and get into the water with her. Instead, he decided they would buy her some shoes as well.

“Let’s go,” he said after about half an hour, “we still have a Wonder to see.”

_ What can be more wondrous than this? _ Hermione asked herself. A bit reluctant, but at the same time curious for whatever she was to see next, she followed him back into the city center. They turned a corner and for the second time that day, Hermione stopped dead in her tracks.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed, looking up at the towers of the Sagrada Familia. “It looks … surreal,” she whispered.

Draco chuckled. “Wait until you see the interior.”

He once more took hold of her hand to guide her. Dazed, she followed him.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “There’s a line to go inside over there.”

Draco looked to where she was pointing. “Muggle entrance,” he answered, “we are taking the hidden one.”

“A hidden one?”

“Yes, the magical one.”

She decided to simply follow him; he did seem to know where he was going. They walked to the side of the cathedral, out of sight of the people mulling about. Draco pulled his wand out of his sleeve and pressed it against the stone wall. Hermione couldn’t prevent a gasp as the stone melted away to form an ornate archway.

“Good day, entry for two?” a strange looking man asked them.

Hermione studied him as Draco nodded and started talking about sickles and galleons. She filed the strange words away for later questioning. The man was wearing some sort of cloak, but much more elaborate than that. It was the strangest garment she had ever seen. On top of his head he wore a silly, pointed hat. She was still staring at him as Draco dragged her away.

“Look up,” he said after they walked inside.

All words left her as she looked up at the richly decorated ceiling. The pillars split into smaller segments near the top, making them look like stone trees. The ceiling was so far above her, she couldn’t comprehend how they had ever managed to build it. The entire space bathed in a multitude of colors, caused by the light filtering in through the magnificent stained glass windows. It all felt so airy and light, she wouldn’t have been surprised as the structure would have started waving in a breeze.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Draco asked softly.

Hermione nodded, unable to form words. There was a silence. “What’s magical about it?” she finally managed to ask.

“The architect, Antoni Gaudi, wasn’t a Muggle but a Wizard. He hired Muggles to start building his cathedral, visiting at night to support the structure with enchantments he had invented himself, thus creating this impossible construction. When he died, about a hundred years ago, the cathedral was far from finished. In fact, they are still working on it now.”

He pointed at the workers scurrying around.

“The Spanish ministry realised that the cathedral could not be built without the enchantments. They set up a secret work force to support the Muggle workers. However, the Statute of Secrecy enforces that the Muggles should not be aware of our existence. For over a hundred years, Wizards and Witches have been working alongside Muggles without being noticed. Not once did they have to resort to Obliviating one of them. That on its own is a Wonder. Either the Muggles are extremely dense, or the preventive measures they took are extremely advanced.”

For a moment, Hermione contented herself with looking at his profile while he stared up at the structure above them, a serene look on his face.

“Obliviating?” she asked, returning her own gaze at the impossible building.

“Changing one’s memory. It is only used to enforce the Statute.”

“Why did they make the Statute?”

She could feel his gazing at her. “We were hunted for a long time before we went into hiding,” he answered. “Not trying to sound dramatic, but it’s true, especially for witches.”

Hermione nodded, having read about the many witch hunts in the Middle Ages. They stayed in the Cathedral until both their bellies were protesting their hunger. Reluctant, they left in search of a bakery.

For the rest of the day, Draco took Hermione sightseeing throughout the city. He showed her some other buildings from the famous architect and told her what little he knew of the history of the city. Hermione felt exuberant, bouncing around, feeding the doves in Catalunya Square and enjoying her freedom.

Draco insisted they buy her shoes and a nightgown. She didn’t protest, not wanting to ruin the mood. He laughed at her when she tried to walk with her newly acquired shoes on her feet. They felt strange. She couldn’t feel the ground anymore.

“Just pretend the soles of your shoes are the ground,” Draco laughingly advised when she complained about it.

She still thought them unnecessary, but it seemed to be one of those strange rules. Everybody she saw was wearing shoes, so she guessed there was no escaping it. With a sigh, she finally relented and was soon once more running around as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

**xXxDracoxXx**

Draco smiled as he watched Hermione skip around. The shyness she had exhibited earlier that day had completely melted away. When she first put on the shoes he had chosen for her, she had reminded him of his father’s late dog Apollo.

When Draco was young, about 5 years old, he had accidentally magicked socks on the dog’s paws, afraid they would get cold in the snow. Apollo had walked around pulling his legs up high, trying to get rid of the weird things on his feet. Draco remembered how his mother had laughed when she returned to the room.

He thought about his parents and realised a letter was long overdue. Looking at the sky, he calculated that his owl would arrive later that day. He would send it off again with his letter, letting the bird know it could stay at the Manor. There was no reason for it to exhaust itself by trying to follow them while they portkeyed all around the world.

Decided, he started guiding her back towards the hotel. He was sorely tempted to go into wizarding Barcelona but decided against it, afraid it would freak Hermione out. Arriving at their lodgings, the receptionist called out to him.

“Mister Malfoy, a package has arrived for you,” she stated professionally. “If you would like to sign here, please.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked when they arrived at their room.

“Probably the next portkey plus reservation documents for the next hotel.”

“We’re going to do that again?”

Draco laughed at her wide, disbelieving eyes. “Yes, we are. It’s a fast way of travelling. The Wonders are spread around the world. You wouldn’t want to be hiking around for months, now would you.”

That seemed to be a bad thing to say, because her hands flew to her mouth, a look of horror on her face.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?”

“How long will we be gone?” she whispered.

“Uhm,” he said, realising what this was about, “a bit longer than a week.” He had no intention of letting her go back to that blasted tower, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Oh no!” she whimpered. “I can’t do that, I thought we would be gone for a day or three. What will my Aunt say? How will she react if she sees I’m gone? I promised her not to go outside. I’m a terrible, terrible person. What have I done?” She dropped to the floor and started rocking back and forth. “We need to go back! We need to go back!”

Draco was at a loss. He wasn’t big on emotional outbursts. Those few times a woman did start crying in front of him, a kiss and a good fuck had solved the problem. Obviously, that was not a tactic he could resort to right now. He didn’t know what to do.

“You’re not a terrible person,” he finally said, crouching next to her.

“I am!” she cried back.

“No.” He tried to think about how a Gryffindor would react in this situation, he came up blank.  _ Let’s go for the clichés. _ “You are going on an adventure,” he stated.

“But my Aunt. What will she think?”

“Didn’t you leave a note? She’ll know you’re ok.” He sincerely doubted that, but he had to say something.

“She’ll be so angry!” Suddenly, Hermione turned and buried her face against his chest. He nearly fell on his butt at the sudden impact. “She’ll be so angry she won’t love me anymore.”

Slowly, Draco wrapped his arms around her shivering shoulders. His body seemed to remember what to do, because he instinctively started running his hands up and down her back.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” he said. “She might not like that you took off on your own, but she won’t stop loving you. She’s family.”

“But she said to never go outside, never!”

“Every child has to rebel against their  caretakers at least once, so here you are. She will forgive you, believe me. Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll deal with the consequences when the time comes.”

They sat there for a long time, Hermione settling more comfortably against him as her sobbing died down.

“You smell good,” she said, out of the blue.

“What?!” he responded, pulling back and looking down at her.

She shrugged. “You smell good,” she repeated.

“Uhm, thanks?” He felt awkward. Where did that come from? “Go freshen up,” he said, standing up. “I’ve got a letter to write.”

He heard her draw a bath and figured it was probably for the best. She would get bored without anything to do while he thought of what to say to his parents. He had to explain why Blaise brought home his horse, and that infernal cat.

Thinking of Blaise, he turned his attention to the package. Inside was a small stone and an envelope. He grabbed the latter first.

“ _ Draco, _

_ Your horse and that wretched cat are at the Manor. Your parents weren’t home so I handed them over to one of the elves. Good luck explaining them to your mother.” _

Draco could practically see the gloating smirk on Blaise’s face.

_ “Enclosed are the address and booking papers for the next hotel. You’re going to Greece next. The rock is your portkey, it will activate in the morning at 9am. _

_ Enjoy! _

_ Blaise.” _

_ That damned, conniving bastard! _ Draco thought, eying the stone.  _ He’s enjoying this way too much! Dropping off the animals without an explanation, and giving us a portkey so small we’ll have no choice but to wrap our hands together so we can both touch it. _ He conveniently forgot Hermione and him had been walking hand in hand for most of the day, deluding himself that was only so she wouldn’t suddenly take off.

Still silently fuming and cursing one of his best friends, he studied the documents of their next hotel. It seemed a decent place to stay. He noted that they would be, once again, sharing a bed. Growling, he decided Blaise deserved a letter too. Sitting down, he grabbed parchment and ink and started writing.

The evening progressed peacefully. They went for another round of paella as their dinner, and once the sun had set, Draco sent  his letters. Before they went to bed, he rebuilt the barrier in the middle. An hour later, however, he realised the thing was useless. Just like the previous night, Hermione moved excessively in her sleep, first hugging the blankets and cushions, then throwing them off the bed and stretching wide. With a sigh, Draco surrendered most of the bed to her and went to sleep on the edge of it.

xXxXxXx

“Do we really have to use a portkey again?” Hermione whined.

They were back in the alleyway where they arrived two days prior. Draco rolled his eyes at her incessant complaining.

“I can leave you here on your own, if you prefer that?” he snapped.

“It makes me dizzy,” she answered, pouting.

He sighed. “You get used to it. After a couple of times, you don’t even notice it anymore. Now grab the stone before it activates.”

Reluctantly, Hermione intertwined her fingers with his, the stone between the palms of their hands. The familiar pull hooked behind his navel and he braced himself for landing. Hermione stumbled against him and he held her up until she found her bearings.

“Where are we?”

“Welcome to Greece,” he answered. They had landed at the edge of a large, typical Grecian village.

Hermione turned a full circle. “Look! Mountains!” she exclaimed.

Draco smiled. He figured they would make her feel at home. Taking hold of her hand, he once more took the lead, walking the meandering streets in between the white-washed houses. He smiled as he noticed how she was not paying any attention to where they were going, simply allowing him to lead her and meanwhile trying to take in everything she saw.

“It’s so different from Barcelona,” she wondered.

He hummed in agreement, discreetly using a locator spell to find their hotel. Once they were in their room and had dropped their bags, Draco turned to Hermione.

“Are you  ready for a little hike?” he asked.

She looked at him in confusion. “A hike? Yes. Why?”

“We need to get to the top of that mountain,” he pointed out of the window. “We can Apparate to a camp somewhat below the top, but the last climb must be made on foot.”

She stared out of the window, gazing up at the imposing mountain. “What’s there?” she asked.

“You’ll see.”

“What’s Apparating?”

_ Not something you’re going to like, I’m afraid.  _ “Difficult to explain, I’ll just have to show you,” he said, moving away from the window and holding up his arm. “Take hold of my arm, don’t let go.”

The wary, somewhat mistrusting look she gave him made him clench his teeth to hold back a smirk.  _ At least she’s learning not to simply trust everything. _ When she finally placed her hand on his arm, he wasted no time, putting his hand on top of hers and Disapparating.

“Why would anyone willingly do that to themselves?” Hermione groaned when they arrived.

This time, Draco could not hold back a laugh. “Again, you get used to it,” he answered, supporting her arm while she squeezed her eyes shut and swayed slightly.

“It’s colder here than in that village,” she noted, seemingly confused.

“We’re a lot higher,” he noted. “Now let’s get going, we have quite a walk ahead of us.”

They started walking through the barren, rocky landscape.

“This feels … eerie,” Hermione whispered after a while.

He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“There’s nothing here,” she continued. “Not trees, no grass, no animals, just rocks.”

“There are most definitely animals here,” Draco answered. “Just not as many as in a forest.”

“It’s creepy.”

They continued their hike in silence, Hermione sticking close to him. He didn’t mind, he understood.

He stopped when they neared the summit. “We’re about to walk through the wards,” he said.

“Wards?”

“Protective enchantments, in this case mostly cloaking and Muggle-repellent. Once you step through, you’ll be able to see what we came for. Come on.”

Together they walked through the wards. Draco could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise up at the strength of them. He watched Hermione’s face as she laid eyes on the stairs in front of her. The look of utter shock and astonishment was gratifying.

He turned see the stairs he had only seen once before. They were still as magnificent as he remembered them. A wide base quickly narrowed to a slender form, curving into the air. The entire structure glowed in a soft light. The stairs seemed to be made of marble, the veins moving about on the surface. Intricate designs were carved on the sides.

At first sight, there were no railings, allowing a careless person to fall off. On closer inspection, however, a shimmer could be seen. When he squinted his eyes, he could define a densification in the air, indicating that there was, indeed, some sort of protection present. Following the curving steps, he could see how the stairs suddenly cut off in the distance.

“What is this?” Hermione breathed.

“This,” he said, “is the entrance to the mythical Mount Olympus. Well, it was once, at one point the Gods decided they were tired of visiting humans, so they smashed part of the stairs.”

“But, but,” Hermione faltered, gaping like a fish. “It’s mythical for a reason, it doesn’t exist!”

“I don’t know if they’re still up there, but it existed at one point. These stairs are proof of it.”

“Can we climb it?” she asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Draco answered. “I don’t know if it’s safe.”

“I can’t believe it, this is surreal.”

He smirked. “Believe it, princess, it’s right in front of your eyes.”

She abruptly sat down on the ground. “Can we stay here for a while?”

“Sure, whatever you want.” He cast a warming and cushioning charm on the ground, and sat himself beside her, taking in the marvel that was the stair to the gods.


	6. Magic works in funny ways

**xXxHermionexXx**

“So, where do we go next?” she asked Draco the following morning.

She was trying her very best not to blush as she looked at him. That morning, she had woken up, cuddled against his back. Luckily, he had still been sleeping and didn’t notice. She wasn’t really sure why the incident made her blush, but it did, and he would definitely ask what was up. She knew he wouldn’t like that she had been laying so close to him, so she tried not to give him reason to question.

“Somewhere rather cold,” he answered. “We will have to buy you a cloak as soon as we arrive. I don’t think we’re going to find one here.” He glanced out of the window. The day was already turning sweltering hot. “The portkey doesn’t activate until 2pm. You want to go back for a hike in the mountains?”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. The mountains made her feel safe. So did Draco, she was never scared when he was around. She scrunched up her nose.

“We’re not going to Apparate again, are we?” she asked warily.

Draco laughed. She was starting to really like the sound of his laugh. “No, princess, we’ll stick to the base of the mountains, no worries.”

They walked out of the village, following a trail into the forest. Hermione skipped away when she heard the comforting sound of a stream. Not caring about propriety, she took off her shoes and went to stand in the middle.

“Silly girl,” Draco teased.

“You should join me,” she called out to him. “This is fun!”

“You are standing in the middle of a stream,” he deadpanned.

“Yes! And it’s fun! C’mon Draco.” She ran over to him and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him in.

“No,” he protested, “I’m good where I’m standing.”

“You’re so boring,” she pouted.

She really didn’t understand why he was so stubborn about it. Her words, however, seemed to hit a nerve. He narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m not boring,” he ground out.

“Yes you are,” she happily answered. “You won’t even come and stand in the water with me.”

She could see the dilemma raging in his  eyes and fought back a grin. Somehow, she knew she had won. She couldn’t prevent the small, victorious giggle that erupted when he grumbled something unintelligible and started taking off his shoes. Once he was barefooted, she once more grabbed his hand and dragged him into the water.

“See, this is fun!”

“It’s wet,” he stated.

Hermione wasn’t deterred, she could see the enjoyment he was trying to hide. She waded around, splashing up water with her feet and enjoying the feeling of it flowing around her legs. Draco stood stock still, but watched her with curious eyes. After some time, he waved is wand in a movement she now recognised as a time-telling spell.

“We need to head back,” he said.

Reluctantly she agreed and walked out of the water. She smiled at him as he dried her feet and his own with another spell.  _ Magic sure comes in handy sometimes. It would be nice if I could do all that as well. _

Reluctantly she agreed and walked out of the water. She smiled at him as he dried her feet and his own with another spell.  _ Magic sure comes in handy sometimes. It would be nice if I could do all that as well. _

They picked up their bags from  the hotel. When Draco held up the portkey – another small stone – she let out an exaggerated sigh and braced for the foul feeling of being transported on a hook.  _ They should really research a way to get rid of how awful this feels! _ Hermione shivered violently upon arrival.

“Where are we?!” she exclaimed loudly, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s freezing!”

She looked up as something warm settled around her shoulder. His smell enveloped her as he wrapped his jacket around her.

“What about you?” she asked, blinking.

He was avoiding her gaze . “I’ll make do with a warming charm for now,” he answered. “I guess finding you a good coat has priority. It’s a lot colder than I anticipated.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him.

He glanced her way. “Think nothing of it. Come on, let’s get you out of this cold.”

Hermione followed him into the city they had Apparated to. After some searching, they found a store that sold warm clothing. She found Draco to be a critical shopper. Instead of simply grabbing a jacket and being done with it, like she would have done, he held up different items, made her try them on, and either discarded them or said ‘maybe’. He talked about colors, fabrics and something called tailoring.

“Why don’t we just pick one? It only needs to be warm, no? Let’s grab one and be done with it.”

She widened her eyes at the horrified look on his face. She felt like she had she had committed a grave sin. “No?” she asked again, voice squeaking.

He started talking a couple of times, but no sound came out of his mouth, making him look like a fish. He waved his hands around, gesturing to the clothes around them, but still there was no sound. Hermione was starting to get worried she had broken him or something.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

He choked and finally started speaking. “No! No no no no no!”

Concerned, she rushed over to him and placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you sick? Did you catch a cold? Headache? Feverish? You don’t feel too warm. What are you feeling? Nauseated?”

He stopped her by grabbing her shoulders. “I’m fine, I’m not sick. I just- I just can’t believe you actually said that!”

“Said what?”

“Grab some clothes and be done with it? Don’t you know how important clothes are for one’s image?”

She stared at him.  _ One’s image? Sure we look different in different clothes, but why is that so important? He says the craziest things sometimes. _

“Your clothes are a big part of the first impression you give,” he explained. “They give people the idea whether you’re strong or weak, smart or dumb, nice or unfriendly. It’s all in the clothes.”

_ What a strange notion. _ He seemed genuinely upset though, so she simply nodded and allowed him to continue browsing the store. She lost count of how many coats she had tried on, and was immensely happy once he exclaimed he had found the right one.

A slight panic came over her when he announced she needed gloves, scarf, and a hat to go with it. Upon seeing her face, he laughed.

“Don’t worry, Princess, I’ll be quick about it.”

She couldn’t prevent the relieved sigh that escaped her and smiled apologetically. He simply rolled his eyes, held up a variety of scarves and decided upon a green one with matching gloves and hat. A thought struck her.

“Wait, who’s paying for all this?” Her Aunt had explained her how expensive things were, and how she should always appreciate it when she bought her something. Buying something for her took something away from her Aunt.

“I am, of course,” Draco answered, giving her a puzzled look, while paying for her things.

“But- But I can’t repay you. I don’t have any money. Have you been paying for the rooms we’ve been staying in as well?”

He pushed her out of the store before addressing her. “Yes, I have. What’s the problem, Princess?”

“I’m being a burden! My Aunt always said money is precious and difficult to come by, and now I’m forcing you to spend it on me! How can I repay you? Tell me how I can repay you!”

“Calm down, Princess,” he said, pulling her newly acquired hat further over her ears. “I’ve got plenty of money, more than I can spend, actually. There’s nothing to worry about.”

She looked at him, indecisive. Could someone really have that much money?

“Honestly, I’m a very rich person. Stop worrying. Just wear the stuff I buy you, ok? And listen to my styling advice, I’m the best.” He gave her a stunning smile that had her smiling back at him. “There, now let’s go find our hotel.”

Again, she was following him through unknown streets. She was amazed at the fact that the buildings once more looked totally different. Where Greece had been white and shining, this place was grey and dreary. When she glimpsed through the windows, however, she saw cosy fires and comfortable interiors.  _ They probably spent most of their time inside with this cold. The outside doesn’t have to look nice because of it. _

Upon arrival to  their room, she rolled her eyes as Draco immediately set out creating yet another barrier in yet another double bed. She wondered why he kept it up, every time she woke, she was sprawled across the bed, the barrier in tatters around them. Luckily, she hadn’t once woken again snuggled against him. That morning she had woken rather close to him though. He had still been sleeping, facing her. She had watched him sleep for a long time, it had been strangely soothing.

“We’ll go visit the Wonder tomorrow,” he said. Hermione had given up on trying to make him reveal what and where they all were. “It’s a bit dangerous to go there. First we have to Apparate-“ She groaned and he smiled at her. “I know you don’t like it, but we have no choice. You’ll have to refrain completely from fighting it, however, it’s a difficult spot to Apparate to. Next we’ll have a short walk into the forest. You need to promise me not to go on ahead and to stay next to me.”

She was surprised by how earnest he was. “It’s really that dangerous?” she asked.

“It’s … a strange place. You could get lost very easily. You’ll notice once we’re there.”

“Ok,” she said. She trusted him. _ If I do as he says, nothing will happen. _ “So, what do we do now?”

A funny expression crossed his face. “You want to go back outside and explore?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “It’s cold…”

“Figured as much.” He tilted his head, his hair swinging to the side. “Blaise mentioned in his note that he left us some books to keep us occupied.”

Hermione jumped up. “Books! I love books! Where are they?” She looked around eagerly.

Draco laughed. “You’re so predictable. They’re still at the front desk.”

She nearly ran down the stairs, Draco’s laughter behind her. He wasn’t going fast enough, so she ran back up and grabbed his arm.

“Come on!” she whined, tugging him.

“Easy, Princess, the books won’t run away,” he teased. She huffed and continued pulling him.

They eventually settled down in comfortable chairs in the hotel’s lounge. Draco had collected the small stack of books and gave her one on Magical Creatures.

“Before you ask: Yes, they are all real, all of them exist.”

She glared at him for the comment, but soon realised she would indeed have asked that question. Dragons, Centaurs, Nifflers, Boggarts; she couldn’t believe they were all out there and that she’d never seen any of them. It didn’t take long before she was completely immersed in her reading.

xXxXxXx

“Do you remember what I said?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, he had only said it ten times already. With a sigh, she nodded. “No fighting against the Apparition, keep a strong grip, don’t panic if it feels different. No running in front of you once we’re in the forest, no straying from the path, stay close to you at all times. Don’t freak out.” She wondered what that last bit was about.

He nodded and offered her his arm. She took a firm hold of it.

“You’re ready?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t stop her impatience from coloring her voice.  _ Where are we going that he’s so antsy? _

The squeezing feeling of being pulled through a hole that’s too small took hold of her. She did her best to stoically accept it. Gods, she hated this more than a portkey. When they arrived, Draco was panting.

“Everything alright?” she asked, surprised. He didn’t seem troubled when they Apparated in Greece.

“Yes, I just need a minute. Apparating here is difficult.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you feel it?” He shook his head. “Perhaps not, won’t take long though.” Straightening himself he looked around and started walking towards one of the paths that lead deeper into the trees. “Stay close.”

“How far is it?”

“I’m not sure, nobody actually ever gets there, and the border tends to shift.”

“What? You’re not making any sense.”

“I know.”

Did the Apparition go wrong and did he leave a part of his brain behind? He had explained portkeys and Apparition to her. She had been mortified about the possibility to splinch yourself, it sounded awfully painful.  _ He doesn’t seem to be in pain now though. _

After about five minutes of walking, something seemed off. The forest was nothing like the one around her tower, or the one in Greece. It felt oppressing. And disturbingly alive, even though there was very little sight and sound of animals. The light that filtered through the treetops felt more like twilight than the clouded sun she had seen before they left.

“This place is creepy,” she whispered, stepping even closer to Draco.

He took her hand. “Not really, it’s powerful. Try to let the power run through you freely.”

_ What? How on earth am I supposed to do that? _ The strange feelings only got worse, until it resembled a buzzing in the air. She could only compare it to a thunderstorm. Trying to do what Draco said, she imagined standing in the middle of a rainy thunderstorm, allowing the water to soak her through.

She gasped as the feelings changed. Instead of a buzzing, the forest started singing. It felt as if she had been deaf before, and suddenly she could hear. She could feel her blood coursing through her veins. Her brain felt heavy, her body relaxed. Something was calling for her.

“Don’t!”

Hermione snapped out of her daze as Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.

“Hermione! Hermione! Snap out of it!”

“What? What just happened?”

“You can feel it now, can’t you?” he asked, not relinquishing his hold on her. She could feel him bury his nose in her neck, his lips brushing her neck as he spoke.

“Yes,” she breathed, aware of the exuberance and sheer power of the forest around her. “What happened.”

“I think this is as far as we can go,” he answered. “Somewhere to the north, there is a convergence of seven ley lines, magical lines that criss-cross the world. Where they cross, magic is strong. Some of the most important places are built on crossings. Stonehenge, for instance, is built on top of a convergence of 3 lines.”

He took a deep breath, nuzzling his nose along her neck. Hermione leaned against him, listening to his explanation.

“A convergence of seven lines is incredibly powerful, as you can no doubt feel. There is only one such convergence on the planet. However, no-one has ever set foot there. The convergence and all the surrounding forest belong to the fae, and they are extremely protective of their land. If you get lost, you will most likely never return. Those few who did return have lost their minds. Sometimes they hadn’t aged at all, other times they were a lot older than they were supposed to be. The fae are a dangerous folk.”

His grip around her waist tightened. Hermione closed her eyes. The song in her blood was hauntingly beautiful, her brain pleasantly subdued. It was the latter that alerted her, her brain was never subdued.

“Draco,” she said, “I think we should leave.”

“Why?” he mumbled.

“Something isn’t right, we should leave.”

She started struggling against his hold, while he whimpered and tightened his arms. Breaking free, she grabbed his hand and started walking back to where they came from. He seemed to follow her willingly, although he had a dreamy look in his eyes. Their heads started clearing the further away they got from where they had stopped walking. A blush started creeping up his cheeks, and he walked past her, once more taking the lead.

_ Why is he blushing? And why does he seem so nervous? _ She could only conclude that the forest had a strange effect on him to. Hopefully, he would be  back to normal by the time they Apparated back, splinching really sounded like a horrible ordeal. She wondered if it would be easier if he hugged her like before, instead of her simply holding onto his arm.  _ I wouldn’t mind hugging him again. _

“Do you want to know about the seventh Wonder? The untraceable one?” he suddenly asked.

She nodded eagerly, then realised he couldn’t see her since he was still leading her. “Yes! Yes, please tell me!”  _ Why won’t he look at me? Did I do something wrong? _

“The Wonder has had a lot of different names throughout its existence. In fact, nobody really knows when it came into being. Currently it goes by ‘The Sentient House.”

“The Sentient House? How can a house be sentient?”

He flashed her a smile over his shoulder, before once more blushing and turning around. “Magic,” he answered. She could hear the smirk in his voice.

“But, what does it do?”

“Apparently, it appears to someone who is in desperate need of a home. Not just a house, but a home. The person, or family, or whoever it appears to, can live in it until they can build a home for themselves. When it’s no longer needed, it disappears.”

“What?” Hermione said, flabbergasted and resisting Draco’s pull on her hand. “That’s impossible!”

He stopped and turned around. She noted he was still avoiding looking directly at her. “When are you going to stop saying that, Princess?” he teased. “There are few things really impossible if you have magic.”

Staring, she tried to wrap her head around the idea. “What does it look like?” she finally asked.

Draco started walking again. She followed blindly, still wrapped up in her thoughts.

“That’s the thing,” he explained, “it changes every time. It never looks the same twice. At least not that we know of.”

“So, everybody knows it exists, but nobody knows where it is?”

“Something like that.” They arrived back at the Apparition point and Draco sat down on a fallen tree. “The Department of Mysteries tries to keep track of it. They do lose it from time to time though.”

She went to sit next to him. “Department of Mysteries?”

“Uhm, yes,” he ran a hand through his hair. “They’re part of the English wizarding government.”

“You have a government?”  _ They don’t belong to the general government? _

“Of course!” Draco exclaimed, sounding slightly affronted. “There are all sort of departments: Law Enforcement, The Aurors, Magical Creatures, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, Sports, and so on. The Department of Mysteries is just that, one of mysteries. I guess they do research and development there, but nobody really knows for sure. The Unspeakables – they are the people working there – are forbidden to speak about what they do.”

“They can’t talk about it at all?”

“No.”

“What happens if they do?”

Draco sat up straighter and blinked, deep in thought. “I honestly don’t know,” he said after a while.

“If that Department is tracking the House, why can nobody go visit it when they know where it is?” Hermione asked after a long silence.

“The house doesn’t like visitors.”

_ I can’t believe this is real! _ “How can a house not like visitors?”

He shrugged. “It simply doesn’t. If people start showing up who were not invited by the current resident, it disappears, taking the resident with it. After this happened a couple of times, it was declared forbidden to look for it.”

Hermione nodded.  _ It kind of makes sense, _ she thought. They stayed seated for a long time. She could still feel the strange magic of the place, but it was more of  a distant hum than a glorious song. From the corner of her eye she watched Draco. She wanted to lean her head against his shoulder, but given how strange he was acting, she decided against it. A sigh escaped her.

“Ready to head back?” he asked her.

“Are you?” she asked. “Apparating seemed to really tire you last time.”

He smiled. “I’ll be fine. Hold on.”

When they arrived back at their room, a box was waiting for them. Hermione watched with interest as Draco waved his wand over it before opening it.

“It seems we’re going to the East next,” he said.

“East?”

“Yes, East.”


	7. Kyoto - part 1

**xXxDracoxXx**

The next morning, Draco woke feeling utterly content. For once, he wasn’t balancing on the edge of the bed, and he was comfortably warm. He could hear Hermione’s soft breathing, her breath was soft against his neck.

His eyes flew open.  _ Cursed Merlin! _ Hermione was snuggled against him, her head on his shoulder, one leg between his. Part of him wanted to scream with embarrassment, another part was feeling rather smug about having her in his arms.  _ Damn those fae, _ he cursed. She mumbled something unintelligible and he reflexively tightened his hold on her.

_ Untangle her! Untangle her! _ There was, however, nowhere to go. He wasn’t exactly balancing on the edge, but there wasn’t much room left either. He turned his head to look at the woman sleeping in his arms and caught a whiff of her scent. When she first said he smelled nice, he had thought she was crazy. Now, he understood, she smelled rather magnificent herself.

She looked so serene while sleeping. Some of her hair had come loose from the braid on top of her head and he let his fingers run through it. He was curious to the glowing she had told him about, but was scared of asking her. He didn’t want her to think that was why he was travelling with her.

_ Why are you travelling with her?  _ He had to admit that he didn’t really know. At first it had been curiosity, later entertainment in seeing her childish happiness about the world, now he didn’t know anymore. He shrugged and panicked when it caused Hermione to shift and mumble some more.

_ Idiot! You don’t want her to wake up and think more of it, now do you? Get up!  _ Heading his inner voice, he gently started disentangling himself from her. Grabbing a pillow, he lifted her head from his shoulder and gently lowered it. He sat up and carefully slid his legs away from hers. With a relieved sigh, he stepped out of the bed.

He grabbed his wand and checked the time: Four in the morning. Looking back at the bed, he let out a sigh.  _ No room on my side of the bed, and I can’t crawl in on the other side because then she’ll know something happened. Just my luck. _ He decided to grab a book and read by wandlight. Instead of reading, however, he watched Hermione sleep.

“Draco?”

He jumped slightly as she mumbled his name.  _ What time is it? 5am. I’ve been sitting here for an hour? _

“Hmm,” he answered.

“What time is it?”

“Still early. Go back to sleep, Princess, I’ll wake you when it’s time for breakfast.”

“ ’Kay.” There was a moment of silence. “Why are you up?”

“I’m no longer sleepy.”  _ Well, that’s a lie. _ “Don’t mind me, go back to sleep.”

He didn’t understand what she said after that, but he figured it was another ‘Ok’. Shaking his head slightly, he listened as her breathing once more evened out to the slow rhythm of sleep. He lit his wand, opened his book, and started reading.

After breakfast, they went about their now familiar routine of packing their belongings. On Hermione’s insistence, Draco shrunk the books and added them to his backpack. They walked to the alley behind the hotel and he fished the portkey out of the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Why does Blaise keep sending us stones?” Hermione asked.

_ Because the bastard is trying to force me to hold your hand, _ Draco thought.  _ The idiot thinks it would make me uncomfortable. _

“He probably has a stack of them to easily make portkeys, think nothing of it,” he answered her. “We’re going to travel a long way, so it’s going to take a while before we land. Don’t panic, alright?”

Hermione groaned but nodded. They wrapped their hands around the stone and waited for it to activate. Five minutes later, they landed in yet another country with yet another climate change.

“Where are we?” Hermione asked, as was her habit. He kind of enjoyed dangling their destination in front of her, refusing to actually tell her, and see the curiosity and frustration in her golden eyes.

“Welcome to the South end of Japan,” he answered.

“We’re in Japan?” she repeated enthusiastically. “I’ve read some of the mythology of this country. It’s in many ways completely different than that from Rome and Greece, it’s fascinating. Did you know that all mythologies contain similar themes? –“

Draco nodded and let her prattle on. She started pouring information at the oddest of times and the weirdest places. He wasn’t really surprised she had a lot to say about this country. Realising she wasn’t going to follow him, to engrossed in looking around and talking random knowledge, he grabbed her hand and started walking.

He tried to ignore how warm her hand was and how his fingers seemed to tingle at the contact.  _ Damn those fae! _ he cursed for a second time that day.  _ I wouldn’t be feeling this if you hadn’t meddled! _ He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.  _ Such soft skin. _

Upon arrival, he gave the receptionist a small bow. The Malfoy business had a small seat in Japan so he had been taught the most basic rules for interaction since childhood. Their room was more luxurious than the previous ones and Hermione looked around in awe.

“Look at the inlay on this cabinet! It’s amazing!”

“The Japanese are true artisans,” he answered distractedly, opening the envelope that had come with the key to the room. There were two train tickets inside. “It seems we’ll be visiting the Wonder today,” he commented.

Hermione looked up, her eyes eager. “Really?”

“Yes, and we’ll be using Muggle transportation.”

“Muggle transportation?”

“We’ll be going by train.” The scenery along the train route was rumoured to be stunning. He understood why Blaise had bought them the tickets, but he really disliked trains. “In fact, we should be leaving now if we want to catch it. Come on.”

They hurried through the small town towards the train station. Hermione was obviously nervous, she watched the train with wide eyes.

“We need to sit inside that thing?” she asked softly. She was practically glued to his side.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

He laughed slightly. “Yes, I’m sure.”

They sat on opposite sides next to a window. Hermione squealed as the train started moving, balling her hands in fearful fists. He shook his head and gently coaxed her fingers out of the ball, flattening it against his own hands.

“No need to be afraid, Princess.” He made a small gesture to the other passengers. “Would all of these people be here if they thought it was dangerous?”

“I guess not?”

They were pulling out of the station and the town. “Look outside,” he coaxed her. He smiled softly as her fearful expression quickly turned into a curious one, and later into one that was completely mesmerized. The rumours were true, the scenery was exquisite.

When they arrived at their destination, Draco realised Blaise had timed it well. They still had a hike ahead of them, making them arrive at the Wonder just before the sun started setting. Draco could Apparate them back out after that. He shook his head and sighed.  _ You’re a closet romantic, mate. _

“Is that- Is that a volcano?” Hermione asked in awe.

“Yes, it is. It is also our destination.”

“What?” she looked at him.

“We’re going to have to walk for a bit. Muggles are only allowed to go halfway up the slope, we can go up to the top.”

“What’s there?”

“At the top? Nothing. It’s what’s inside the volcano that’s interesting.”

The confused look she gave him was amusing, to say the least. With a small gesture, he started walking, confident she would follow. They followed the well-walked path up the hill, until a magical marker told them to veer off course. After a two hour hike, they were almost at the top.

“I’m going to cast a cooling charm on you, Princess. It’s going to get hotter as we move further up.”

She nodded at him, curiously looking at the nearby top of the volcano. “Isn’t it dangerous to get this close? The signs at the train station said this is an active volcano.”

“It sort of is, not entirely.”

“Sort of? How can a volcano be ‘sort of’ active?”

“Come on, I’ll explain when we’re up there.”

He arrived first and helped her up the last cluster of rocks, allowing him to see her face as she looked into the mountain. Her eyes grew wide, fire reflecting in them and making them burn. The firelight made her skin glow.

“What is this? Fire isn’t supposed to behave like this…”

“This, Princess, is entrapped Fiendfyre .”

“Fiendfyre?”

“Cursed fire, much wilder and stronger than normal fire. It will burn anything it encounters. Very dangerous magic,” he answered, becoming mesmerized by the fire’s movement.

“How did it get here? Why is it inside the volcano?”

“There are different stories about how it got here. Some say this volcano is the origin of all Fiendfyre. When one spells Fiendfyre to life, one doesn’t create it but transports part of this fire to where they are, allowing it to grow. Others claim that, in ancient history, a Fiendfyre was lit in this part of Japan and got out of hand, destroying most of the land. At some point a very powerful wizard showed up and managed to contain it to this volcano. It has stayed here ever since.”

“How fascinating,” she answered. “What do you think is the truth?”

“No idea,” Draco answered. “Both seem highly unlikely to me.”

They stared into the fire while the sun slowly set. The shadows lengthened, leaving the fire as the main source of light. It set everything in stark contrast. Draco looked up at Hermione. Shadows were playing across her face, making her look ethereal.

As if feeling his gaze, she looked up at him. She raised her hand and touched his cheek. “The light makes you look … I don’t know, different, in a good way.”

The smile she gave him made his breath catch. He took her hand into his and lowered it from his face. “Let’s go. We need to go down the hill for a little bit and then I can Apparate us back.” He guided her back down the hillside, not once releasing her hand.

Along the way he lit his wand, sunlight dwindling fast and leaving impenetrable darkness in its wake. He could feel Hermione stumble behind him.

“Not much further,” he said. “It’s dangerous to Apparate too close to the fiendfyre, it’s a form of Wild magic and as such, very unpredictable.”

“Like the fae’s magic?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, “something like that.”

He stopped and pulled her against his side, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Ready?” he asked, looking down on her. Her eyes shone in the light of his wand. He thought they were unusually large, but figured it was just a trick of the light. He could feel her arms snake around him, effectively hugging him.

Hermione nodded. Strengthening his grip, Draco Disapparated. Upon arrival, he steadied her and quickly stepped away. He hadn’t fully realised how flush he had pulled her against him. Trying to cover up for his mistake, he briskly walked to the bed and started building the usual, completely useless, wall of cushions and pillows.

After a quick dinner at the hotel, they bid each other goodnight and fell asleep. Draco once more woke balancing on the edge of the bed. Light was streaming in through the curtains, and as he opened his eyes, he saw Hermione lying close to him. They weren’t touching but they were only a hair’s breadth apart.

Unwilling to get up and figuring there was no harm in the situation, since they weren’t touching, he stayed put and watched her sleep. He couldn’t deny it any longer, he found her absolutely gorgeous. Her small nose was slightly upturned and her full lips simply begged to be kissed. He felt like he could look at her sleeping form for hours. He also knew he was well and truly screwed. Falling in love with a woman as naïve as her was the stupidest thing he had ever done.

He watched with interest as her eyelashes started to flutter. Once she opened her eyes, she stared at him for a moment, before squealing and hastily scrambling backwards on the bed. He sniggered at her reaction.

“Why are you lying so close to me?” she stammered, hand over her heart as if trying to keep it from pounding out of her chest.

“Hardly my fault, princess,” he answered. “You’re the one taking up the entire bed.”

She looked at the bed and started blushing prettily. “Well, I, uhm…”

He smiled at her obvious discomfort. Sitting up, he had half a mind to comment that at least, this time, she wasn’t draped over him, but decided against it. There was no need to make the situation even more uncomfortable.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he commented, getting out of bed. “Think about what you want to do today, princess. We could go see Kyoto, eat sushi, join in on a tea ceremony, go to one of the parks, there’s plenty to do here.”

Turning to look at her, he saw how her nightgown had ridden up to her thigh. He gulped at the sight of her long legs, fully exposed and partly stretched out over the bed. He quickly wrapped a robe around him to hide his sudden hard-on. Judging by the look in her eyes, she was already going through the possible day’s activities, and hadn’t noticed a thing. Inwardly, he sighed with relief.  _ A cold shower it is, _ he lamented.

When he walked back into the room, she was still sitting on the bed. Turning to him, she gave him an excited look.

“Can’t we do it all?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “No, princess, we don’t have time for that.” He watched as her face fell, feeling like a complete ass, even though what he said was true. “But we might combine a couple of things,” he said, feeling joyful as her eyes lit up again. “Let me go get some information at the reception while you get dressed, ok?”  _ So I can clear my head and stop staring at you. _

Amused, he watched her bound out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.  _ Why did you have to fall in love with her? _ he asked himself. Because he could no longer deny it, he could blame the fae all he wanted, but he wanted to see her happy and would do whatever necessary to achieve that. His resolve to never let her return to her tower only grew bigger.

Having decided to show Hermione as much of Kyoto and the Japanese culture as possible, he Apparated them to the Arashiyama district. His plan of action meant they would be Apparating to and fro a lot during the day, but it was well worth it. He didn’t even think about it when he grabbed her hand and tugged her along. She came to stand close beside him as he pointed out the Fushimi Inari shrine. The sparkle in her eyes made him want to kiss her.

“Do you like it?” he asked instead.

She stared at the shrine and nodded mutely.

“Impossible,” he breathed, teasing her. “Are you rendered speechless?”

“It’s so- Different. Impressive. Beautiful,” she answered. She turned to him, an eagerness in her eyes that told him he had chosen their first visit well. “Can we go visit?”

“Of course, princess.”

Still holding hands, they toured the shrine and walked a little up the mountain path. He watched her as she looked around with wide, curious eyes. Every now and then she squealed with delight at a new discovery. The rows upon rows of gates made her jaw drop and he chuckled at the sight. Still, he remembered being equally as impressed by them when he was a child. They walked underneath them at a leisurely pace, until Draco decided it was time to head back.

“The hike up to the top takes two to three hours, princess,” he said when she pouted. “We wouldn’t be able to see anything else today if we went all the way up there.”

She looked up along the path. “Can’t we Apparate up there?” she asked.

“I thought you didn’t like Apparating?” he answered, a smile tugging at his mouth. “But no, we can’t. There’s an unspoken rule that one doesn’t Apparate on sacred ground. Plus, there’s no place to appear up there without a Muggle seeing us. We would violate the Statute of Secrecy. Besides, in this case the aim is not to reach the top, but to take the journey towards it. If we Apparated, we would defeat its reason for existence.”

“Oh.” There was a small pause while she continued staring up the path. “Too bad.” She turned to walk back down the mountain with him. “Where to next?”

“A very special forest and a very old garden.”

Hermione blinked at him. “What?”

He laughed.  _ She looks so cute when she’s confused. _ Arriving at the Apparition point, he wrapped an arm around her waist and disappeared. The Bamboo Grove actually had its own Apparition spot, right at its center. He started walking towards the main path, but quickly realised Hermione wasn’t following him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, turning around to face her.

“This is … a forest?” she asked, staring up at the canopy. “Such strange trees.”

Draco walked back to stand beside her. “It’s bamboo,” he answered, also looking up in awe. No matter how often he visited this place, the seemingly endless stalks of bamboo never ceased to amaze him. For a while, they simply stood there, until Draco’s neck started to hurt.

“Come on,” he said, putting a hand on the small of her back and guiding her to the main path.

Hermione seemed to be in a daze, not watching where she was going, instead continuing to watch the forest of bamboo. After she stumbled a couple of times, Draco took a firm hold on her left hand, while his right stayed on the small of her back.

“This is surreal,” she finally whispered.

“It is,” he agreed, looking at her.

She was rubbing her neck and shoulders with her free hand. He moved his right hand to splay just below her neck. Carefully, he let some of his magic trickle in her tense muscles. A trick he had learned from his mother.

Hermione let out a small moan. “Oh! That feels divine!”

“You shouldn’t have continued staring up for so long,” he softly admonished, moving his hand further up her neck and earning himself another moan. His pants were fast becoming uncomfortable. “There, better now?” he asked, moving his hand back down.

She gave him a soft smile, making his breath hitch slightly. “Yes.”

“Well, let’s get going then.”

Thinking it weird to keep such a firm hold on her now that she was paying attention to where she was walking, he made to step back. Hermione, however, followed his movement and caught his hand, intertwining their fingers. It was her turn to tug him along.

“How big is this forest?”

“Not that big. We’ll follow this path to the edge of it and continue on to the Tenryuji Temple.”

“Tenryuji Temple?”

“Yes. It’s the largest Zen temple of the city. It’s a rather impressive site. The buildings are from the late 19 th century, but the gardens have survived throughout the centuries. They were designed in the 14 th century. I thought we could walk around in them until it’s time for lunch?”

“I would love to.”

And so they did. Draco felt content walking through the ancient gardens, holding Hermione’s hand and watching her face light up upon seeing the koi fish and the zen garden. Even though she had learned a lot during their time spend together, she still possessed a certain innocence, a childlike exuberance and joy in life. It contrasted with his cynical side and he hoped she never lost it.

When noon arrived, Draco pulled them off the path, behind a bush, and Apparated them to another part of the city.

“There’s going to be a lot of people where we’re going, so please don’t wander off, we might lose each other,” he said seriously.

“Ok,” Hermione responded, giving him a strange look.

“Promise me,” he insisted.  _ Please, princess, I don’t want to lose you because you see something interesting. I’ll go wherever you go, just pull me along. _

“I promise,” she answered, still frowning at him.

He rubbed her frown away with his thumb. “Good.”

They turned a couple of corners before they ended up at the beginning of a seemingly endless street filled with people and all sorts of food. A true cacophony of sounds and smells assaulted them, and he felt Hermione press herself to his side. He squeezed her hand in reassurance.

“This is the Nishiki market,” he explained, knowing that it would distract her from her discomfort. “It’s a food market that goes on for five blocks. There are a lot of stalls selling skewers or small, ready-to-eat dishes. You can find practically everything here.”

Together, they joined the crowd. As he had expected, it didn’t take long before Hermione forgot about her uneasiness, and started fluttering from one stall to the other, dragging him along. When she finally stopped at a stall with different types of finger food, it only seemed natural to wrap his arms around her and pull her back against his chest. He smiled as her small hands covered his.

“You want some of this?” he asked her, his mouth close to her ear to overcome the noise all around them.  _ Did she just shiver? _

Hermione nodded her assent. “But I don’t know what to choose,” she lamented. “I have no idea what all of this is.”

“Neither do I,” he answered. “Let’s just get a bit of everything, hmm?”

She turned her head to look at him. “We can do that?”

“Of course, princess.” Surreptitiously casting a translator spell on himself, he bought their food.

“I didn’t know you spoke Japanese!” Hermione exclaimed.

He chuckled. “I don’t. I have magic, remember? I cast a translator spell.” Her surprised look made him shake his head. Was she never going to realise almost everything was possible with magic? “You want to continue exploring? Or shall we go to a park to eat?”

The question seemed to have caused an impossible dilemma in her head, as he could practically see the wheels turning.

“I’m actually rather hungry,” he said, hoping it would sway her to leave the market behind. The sheer amount of people was getting on his nerves.

“Me too,” she answered. “Let’s go eat.”

Smiling, he pulled her into a side street, effectively leaving the market behind. It was a bit of a walk, but he would take her to the Imperial Palace. They could eat in the park, take a look at the palace buildings, and visit the branch of the Itsukushima Shrine.


	8. Kyoto - part 2

Upon arrival, they found a bench to sit on while eating. Hermione examined each and every skewer and dish before carefully nibbling on in, and attacking them with vigour when she liked them. A few she warily eyed before giving them to him for a first bite.

She seemed to have a well-developed intuition when it came to food, for those few she didn’t want to try were either inedible or incredibly spicy. Becoming red in the face and practically breathing fire like the dragon he was named after, he didn’t know whether to be angry about Hermione laughing at him, or love the sound of it. He settled on glaring at her once the burn went down a bit.

“That is not funny!” he protested.

“Yes it was, you should have seen your face!” She was still giggling.

“You want to try it then?” he asked, mock threateningly holding a spicy piece of chicken in front of her.

Hermione scooted back, hands up in surrender. “No! No! Not necessary! You have convinced me of its dangers.”

He put down the chicken and licked his fingers, realising his mistake too late. Another coughing fit  from him, and round of giggling from Hermione later, they set out to explore the gardens of the Imperial Palace. After an hour and a half of leisurely walking and staring at the grand buildings that formed the Palace, Draco addressed Hermione.

“We need to go.”

“Really?” she pouted.

He felt his eyes drop to her lips and quickly pulled himself together. “Yes, we have an appointment in wizarding Kyoto.”

“Wizarding Kyoto?”

“The hidden, magical part of Kyoto.”

“Does every city have a magical part?”

“Most of the bigger cities, yes. Sometimes the magical part isn’t hidden but interwoven with the Muggle one. Come on, let me Apparate us.”

Hermione looked around wide-eyed when they arrived. Draco had to admit that the buildings did look quite different from the Muggle city, and the clothing of the witches and wizards walking around wouldn’t fit in with the Muggles at all. Realising this was the first time Hermione was in an all-magic area, he pulled her close to him.

“Welcome to my world,” he whispered in her ear.

She turned towards him and he looked into her eyes, that twinkle he loved so much bouncing around in them.

“It’s magical!” she exclaimed.

He laughed. “Well, obviously, yes.”

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked as Draco guided her through the street.

He smiled down at her. “I’m buying you a new dress for dinner this evening,” he answered. “A traditional kimono, to be exact.”

“But- But- Isn’t that expensive?”

“We’ve been over this, princess,” Draco tutted. “I’ve got more money than I can spend, and I want to spend it on a kimono for you.” He kissed the top of her head as they arrived at the high-end store. “Just enjoy, Hermione. They’ll treat you like the princess you are.”

He pushed her inside, where they were immediately addressed by two saleswomen, both with translator spells in place.

“Mister Malfoy, welcome to our establishment. Would you like some tea?” one of the two addressed him, while the other turned to Hermione.

“Miss, welcome. I understand you are looking for a traditional Kimono? You have come to the right place! If you would follow me? We can try out some sample kimono’s for fitting and shape, and then you can choose from our vast selection of fabrics.”

Hermione looked back at him with wide, fearful eyes. Draco shushed the woman still talking to him with a hand gesture. She broke off mid-sentence. He walked over to Hermione and grabbed her hands, leaning in so their noses were almost touching.

“It’s ok, princess. I’ll be right here. These women do this every day, they know what they’re doing,” he whispered.

She stared into his eyes, before biting her lip, nodding, and finally following saleswoman number two to the back. Number one resumed her chatter.

“A cup of tea would be nice,” he interrupted her, dropping himself in one of the comfortable chairs. He looked at the woman. “Hermione is shy,” he said, levelling her with a stern gaze. “Make sure you don’t scare her.”

“Of course, sir. Right away, sir. We’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

He let out a sigh and settled down for a long wait when the woman finally disappeared. They knew the Malfoy name as his mother frequented this shop whenever she was in Kyoto. Draco knew he had nothing to worry about.

Saleswoman number one returned with his tea. “To what occasion will the Lady be wearing the kimono? If I may be so curious?”

“We will be going to an Ochaya once the kimono is finished.”

The woman’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! Let us do her hair and make-up while the seamstresses prepare the kimono, Mister Malfoy. She’ll be in capable hands, I assure you.”

Draco contemplated the woman’s words.  _ I need to get changed as well. It would be wonderful for Hermione to get pampered like that, but it also means that I’ll have to leave her on her own for a while. _

“Get her fitted,” he eventually answered. “It’s up to Hermione, I’ll ask her later.”

“Of course.” The woman bowed and retreated, leaving him to a couple of magazines for entertainment.

When Hermione reappeared, he was happy to see her eyes shining with delight. She practically skipped over to him.

“Had fun, princess?” he asked.

“There were so many different fabrics and prints to choose from!” she gushed. “They were all so pretty, I had a difficult time deciding. This was wonderful!”

She was bouncing on the balls of her feet and he put his hands on her shoulders to still her.

“I’m happy you enjoyed it,” he said, meaning every word. “You see, the ladies here,” he nodded towards saleswoman one and two, “have proposed to do your hair and makeup as well. Would you like that?”

“Really?” she asked, looking unsure. “You wouldn’t mind?”

He smiled at her. “No, I don’t mind. I do have to head back to the hotel to change clothes myself,” he answered. “I would be gone for some time while you remain here.”

That seemed to cause her to pause. She leaned into him. “You think that’s safe?” she whispered.

“Yes, princess,” he whispered back. “They’re perfectly safe.”

“Oh, ok then.”

He shook his head at her easy acceptance. A small nod towards the saleswomen was all it took for them to spring back into action.

“She’ll be ready in an hour, Mister Malfoy.”

“Wait until you see how much hair she has,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“If you have any matching hair combs, you may use them,” he commented. “I’ll be back in time.”

Without another word, he walked out of the store and Apparated to the hotel. His formal robes were neatly pressed and hanging in the wardrobe. He confirmed his reservation at the Ochaya with the front desk and, knowing he had plenty of time, took a shower before getting dressed.

When he returned to the shop, he declined yet another offer of tea, and settled back down into his armchair. It didn’t take long before the two saleswomen reappeared. Draco stood, knowing Hermione wasn’t far behind.

“May we introduce you to the new Miss Hermione?” saleswoman number one said, before both stepped to the side.

The vision in front of him took his breath away. He could feel his heart skip a beat as Hermione shyly smiled at him.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

For a moment, he couldn’t form words. “Like it?” he finally managed to ask. “Hermione, princess, you- I mean-“ He took a step towards her. “Princess, you look stunning.”

The formal attire hugged her curves, accentuating her figure. It was made of a deep red silk with a pattern of delicate flowers. It complemented her skin tone and matched perfectly with her reddened lips. Her eyes were accentuated with kohl, making him feel he could get lost in them. Two hair combs with rubies and pearls were visible, sticking out an intricately constructed bun, decorated with even more pearls.

He could see her blushing under her make-up and he smiled. “Truly stunning,” he repeated in a soft voice. The saleswoman were completely forgotten.

“You look handsome yourself,” Hermione answered, looking him up and down. “You look really good in black.”

He offered her an arm and she, as if she was trained to do so since infancy, put her hand in the crook of his elbow.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. “Thank you!” she said to the saleswomen.

Both of them smiled at her. “It was our pleasure, Miss,” one of them answered.

_ They actually look like they mean it, _ Draco thought. He nodded at them and escorted Hermione outside. They turned several heads while they walked to the Apparition point.  _ Yes, gentlemen _ , Draco couldn’t help but think.  _ She’s mine. _

They still had some time to spare before they were expected at the Ochaya, so he walked with her to the Shirakawa Area and through the idyllic Gion district. When they finally arrived at the teahouse, he turned to Hermione to explain.

“We’ll be having dinner at an Ochaya,” he said. “They have a long-standing tradition here, where Geiko and Maiko – the Geiko apprentices – entertain guests. They will perform traditional songs and dances, they’ll serve us drinks and engage us in light conversation.”

“They’re professional hostesses?” Hermione asked.

“In a way, they’re much more than that though.” Draco shrugged, unsure about how to explain. “This establishment is a magical one, so don’t be surprised if you see some magic performed as well. I will have to cast a translator spell on you, if you don’t mind?”

When Hermione shrugged, staring at the front of the Ochaya, he covertly cast the spell. They were still standing outside on a Muggle street after all.

“Just talk like you normally would. If the one you are talking to has another native language, it will come out of your mouth in that language. It’s a bit disconcerting at first, but you get used to it. To you it will also seem as if they are speaking English.”

She turned and smiled at him, making his breath hitch once again. Opening the door, he guided her in. The interior of the Ochaya was simple, traditional and stylish. A low, dark wooden table was set at the end of the long and narrow room, the wood contrasting beautifully with the cream colours surrounding it.

The tatamis were comfortable beneath their feet as a geiko guided them to sit on the soft pillows on either side of the table. Draco watched in surprise as Hermione elegantly sat down, as if this wasn’t the first time she wore a kimono. Noticing his stare, she gave him a little smirk. He rolled his eyes.  _ I guess she’s inheriting some of my habits. _

A side wall was slid open to reveal a small garden, making Hermione gasp at its beauty. They were joined by a meiko, who elegantly served them drinks. Draco spend most of the evening watching Hermione. She was enraptured by the geiko and meiko, and they seemed equally as enraptured by her.

Draco was never ignored, that would be a grave failing for both women, but it was obvious he wasn’t the most interesting person at the table. He didn’t mind. He could see how happy Hermione was and that was all that mattered to him.

When their hostesses performed a couple of traditional songs, Hermione closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation, swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music. Sometime later, they performed a traditional dance with fans, causing Hermione to let out surprised gasps as they were thrown in the air.

As the evening drew to a close, sake was served. Before Draco could warn her, Hermione took a sip. She scowled fiercely, coughing as the liquid burned down her throat.

“What’s this?” she exclaimed.

Fearing she might have unintentionally insulted their hostesses, he turned to apologise, only to see both geiko and meiko covering their mouths in an attempt to stifle their laughter.

“That, miss, is sake,” the geiko said. “It is an acquired taste, you should try some more.”

_ And she’ll get drunk in no time. _ “Miss Hermione is unused to drinking alcohol.” He turned towards her. “I would suggest not drinking any more than what is in your glass right now.”

The geiko inclined her head in acceptance, while Hermione kept looking down at the liquid, a pensive look on her face. After what seemed to be some careful deliberation, she took another sip, only to erupt in another bout of coughing. A giggle escaped the meiko, earning her a stern and disapproving look from the geiko.

“My apologies,” the latter said with a bow.

“We take no offence,” Draco answered, taking a sip from his own sake and relishing the burn.

Once more breathing normally, Hermione carefully put down her glass. “I think this is a bit too strong for me,” she said.

Draco burst out laughing.

The geiko smiled understandingly. “Would you prefer some more tea?”

“If that would be possible, yes.”

With a look, the meiko was send off. The rest of their evening proceeded amiably. When Draco noticed Hermione was getting tired, he thanked their hostesses and decided to leave. They kindly allowed him to Apparate from within the Ochaya so he wouldn’t have to walk the half-sleeping Hermione to the apparition point.

“Go get changed, princess,” Draco murmured to Hermione upon arrival at their hotel room. He gave her a little encouraging push towards the bathroom.

She obliged and closed the door behind her. When she still hadn’t reappeared 15 minutes later, Draco was starting to worry. He was contemplating upon barging into the bathroom, when the door opened and a dishevelled looking Hermione walked out. She had obviously washed her face, but she was still wearing the kimono, albeit a bit crooked.

“I can’t get it off,” she said tiredly.

“What?”

“I can’t get it off. The ladies at the shop explained to me how to take the kimono off on my own, but it’s not working.”

Draco thought that her pouting looked absolutely adorable. Then, realisation hit him.  _ Oh no, she can’t honestly be thinking about asking- _

“Can you help me?” she asked. “Can you take it off for me?”

He swallowed, unsure about what to do.

“Please? I can’t get it off.”

She looked like she was about to cry. Not wanting the evening to be spoiled, Draco sprang into action.

“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll get you unwrapped.”  _ Did you really have to say ‘unwrapped’? Really? As if this situation isn’t awkward enough. Focus, Draco, think unpleasant things. _

His hands shook slightly as he reached to untie the sash at the back, the obi, if he recalled correctly. Having untied the knot, he reached around her to unwrap the long piece of silk. He could feel her heat radiating through his thin T-shirt and couldn’t help himself, leaning in to breath in her clean smell.

She sighed and leaned against him as the obi was removed. For a moment, he enjoyed it, before putting his hand on her waist to steady her as he took a step back.

“You should be able to get out of it on your own now, princess.” His voice sounded a bit hoarse and he hoped she would simply think he was tired.

With a little nod, Hermione padded back to the bathroom. When she returned, he had already crawled under the blankets on his side of the bed, unable to get a certain body part back under control. Hermione gave him a sleepy smile and a groggy ‘goodnight’ before climbing onto the bed and promptly falling asleep. Listening to her even breathing, Draco realised he would have a long night.

The next day, the receptionist informed them that a package had arrived for them early in the morning. Recognising the familiar handwriting, Draco signed for it and opened the thick envelop.

“What is it?” the ever-curious Hermione asked.

“Our next destination,” Draco answered. “We leave in two hours. Let’s go have breakfast first.”

Hermione’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

“Are you that happy about having breakfast?” he teased.

“No, silly! We’re visiting another Wonder. Where is it?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know very well that I won’t tell you.”

Hermione happily chatted about the previous night while they ate their luxury breakfast. Two hours later, they were standing in a back-alley, holding a rock between the palms of their hands. Draco knew where the portkey would take them; there were only two Wonders left and he asked Blaise to go to Alexandria last. He turned to her when they arrived on a small island in the middle of what the Muggles had dubbed ‘The Bermuda Triangle’.

“I have never actually taken you out swimming before, now have I?”

She was turning a circle, taking in the landscape that surrounded them, but stopped when he asked his question.

“Swimming? Like, in the water?”

“Yes,” he answered, bemused.

She glanced at the nearby sea. “No, but why would I want to do that?”

“We’ll get to that later,” he said. “Now, come along.”

There was only one hotel on this godforsaken, completely forgotten island. The fact that it was surrounded by Muggle repellent charms was, of course, the main reason for everybody forgetting about it. It was a quaint hotel, not too exclusive but not shabby either.

“What’s the weather forecast?” Draco immediately asked the man behind the front desk.

He looked up. “There’s a storm coming later this afternoon. Excursions are not recommended at the moment. If I were you, I would wait until tomorrow, when there will be calm seas and lots of sunshine. Can I have your name please?”

“What’s the weather got to do with the Wonder?” Hermione asked once they were settled. She sat on the bed, brushing her hair so Draco could magically braid it later.

“Visiting the Wonder when there’s bad weather is risky,” he answered evasively. “We’ll have to wait it out. Sadly enough, there’s not much to do on this tiny rock.” If it were any other woman, he would have known exactly how to spend their time. Draco let out a sigh.

“Do you still have those books? We could read.”

He watched as her eyes lit up at the prospect. How anyone could enjoy reading that much was beyond him, but he agreed, wanting to make her happy and not having a better idea. Down in the hotel’s lounge, he went to sit in one of the loveseats, content to stretch out his feet towards the fire. He tried to hide his surprise as she sat herself next to him, tucking her feet against his leg.

Her feet were cold, they were like popsicles against his thigh, but he didn’t care. Carefully, unsure about how she would react, he covered them with his hand. Hermione let out a content sigh, and wriggled her toes.

It didn’t take him long to realise he wasn’t going to be able to concentrate. Her feet had warmed up, and the heat of the contact practically pulsed through him. He wondered when she had gotten so comfortable around him, and realised that she had actually never been uncomfortable. In reality, it was always him who kept the distance.

_ She’s too naïve, _ he thought to himself.  _ She has no idea about what are normal and appropriate interactions between man and woman, and what are not. This means nothing to her. _ His fingers distractedly drew patterns on her skin while he watched her read. She would scrunch up her nose or whisper under her breath every now and then. He found it absolutely adorable.

When she looked up and caught him staring, he merely smiled and pretended to return to his book, only to continue watching her until it was time for dinner. He could have easily watched her many hours longer.  _ I’m a lost cause. _

The next morning, Draco woke up to see Hermione staring out of the window. “Morning,” he mumbled.

She glanced at him and lowered her eyes. “Good morning. Blue skies today, that’s good, right?”

Was that apprehension in her voice?  _ Probably nervous about the Wonder.  _ “Yes, it is,” he answered, sitting up and dragging his hand through his hair. He wondered how he was going to break the news to her that they were not only going to be swimming, but also diving. “Let’s go grab breakfast and head out to the beach.”

Their walk down to the ocean was anything but silent, with Hermione nagging and trying to goad him into telling where the Wonder was.

“It can’t be on this island, it’s tiny. Or is it a tiny, little Wonder? Or is it hidden by magic? Like the entrance to Olympus?”

“It’s not on the island.”

“Then where is it?”

“You’ll see.”

“Come on, Draco, tell me!”

“No.” He smirked at her whining. She knew he wasn’t going to tell, so he figured she was just nagging for fun.

They reached the beach, a series of stone steps leading into the water.

“I’m going to have to transfigure your dress into a bathing suit. Don’t worry, I’ll transfigure it back once we’ve returned.”

“A bathing suit?”

“Yes.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, looking back and forth between the water and him. Eventually, she nodded. He gulped when her dress shrunk to form a proper bathing suit, hugging her curves and showing off her legs. When she shivered, he cast a warming charm, earning him a small, yet nervous smile.

Thinking about a variety of heavily unpleasant things, he stripped down to the swimming trunks he put on that morning. From the corner of his eye, he could see her staring at him. Since that wasn’t helping with a certain part of his anatomy, he tried his best to ignore it.

“The Wonder,” he said, immediately getting Hermione’s attention, “is at the bottom of the ocean.”

“WHAT?!” she cried out, panicked. “How are we supposed to get there? You’re not thinking about swimming, are you? I can’t swim! I can’t breathe under water! Are you crazy?”

“The swimming shouldn’t be a problem,” he answered, keeping his voice gentle in an attempt to calm her down. “I will teach you along the way, plus, there are charms present that will help you. As for the breathing, I will cast a Bubble-Head charm.”

“A what?”

“A Bubble-Head charm. It creates an air bubble around your mouth and nose, allowing you to breathe under water.”

Her wide eyes grew even wider.

“Hermione?” he asked. He hated that he could hear the apprehension in his own voice. “Hermione? Do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course,” she answered, instantaneous.

He stared at her. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation in her voice.  _ Of course? _ Trust didn’t come to him as easily as it seemed to come to her.

“If you say that charm of yours will allow me to breathe, then, ok, go ahead, cast it, I trust you,” she continued.

He couldn’t comprehend it.  _ How can she trust me so implicitly? I’m practically asking her to put her life in my hands, and she says ‘of course’? There isn’t one person besides my mother I would trust so easily.  I don’t even trust Blaise as much as she seems to trust me.   _ Shaking his head to help clear his thoughts, a strange feeling settled in his stomach; a mixture of protectiveness, pride, gratitude, bewilderment and love. Snapping out of his dazed state, he cast the charm and grabbed her hand.

“Don’t worry,” he said, guiding her to the water’s edge. “I’ll keep you safe.” 


	9. The Underwater Wonder

**xXxHermionexXx**

Hermione couldn’t help but stare as Draco stripped down to his boxers. A strange feeling took hold of her; a feeling she could only describe as a simmering fire in her lower belly. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his chest. Did all men look so gorgeous as Draco?

She took a moment to run through her memories of the last couple of days, mentally taking a look at all the men she had seen.  _ No, they all look rather plain. Draco is by far the best looking of them all.  _ Feeling a blush creeping in, she turned to stare at the ocean.  _ Where is the Wonder? Is it hidden by a ward, only a couple of meters in front of me? _

When Draco told her they were going for the bottom of the ocean, her mind scattered in a panic. He was crazy! Now, she was holding his hand as if it were a lifeline. She realised she was probably cutting off all circulation to his fingers, but didn’t care.

There was no doubt in her mind that he would keep her safe, of course she trusted him, what a silly question to ask, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t apprehensive about the entire thing. Up until a few days ago, she had never seen the ocean, and now she was about to go swim in it – no, dive in it.

Draco started wading into the water, tugging her hand, but she stood frozen at the edge of the water, the waves only barely missing her feet. He walked back to her and, with a finger under her chin, lifted her face to look her in the eye. She loved his grey eyes. They always seemed to swirl and change colour, like clouds in the wind, sometimes a friendly light grey, sometimes dark as a summer’s storm.

“The warming charm will hold in the water as well, it won’t be cold,” he said softly. “It’s not as difficult as you think, you will be fine, I promise. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what happens, come on.”

He took hold of both her hands and started walking backwards, guiding her into the water, not breaking their eye-contact. The water wasn’t cold at all. Initially, it felt much the same as when she stepped into the water in Barcelona. Soon, however, she could feel the waves lifting her slightly upwards.

Surprised, she looked down. She expected to sink like a rock, not be moved by the waves. It was an odd feeling. Slightly bewildered, she looked back up to Draco, only to see him smiling broadly at her.

“See? Not so bad, Princess?” he said. “Let me protect our eyes against the salt first, then we’ll go deeper.”

Letting go of one of her hands, he cast another charm before pulling her deeper into the ocean. When they were neck-deep, he looked back at her.

“When the next wave comes, we dive under it, ok?” he said. “Don’t be scared, I won’t let go of you. And don’t be afraid to open your eyes once under water.”

Hermione bit her lip. “Are you sure this bubble charm will hold?”

“Yes, princess, it will hold,” he answered, his face softening in that special way she liked. “It’s designed especially for swimming under water. Here comes the next wave, are you ready?”

She had barely enough time to nod before Draco forcefully pulled her under the water with him. He started kicking his feet and angled his body slightly downward. A small light appeared at the tip of his wand in front of him. Trying to mimic him, Hermione also started kicking her legs. Looking over his shoulder, Draco smiled and nodded at her.

Suddenly, they seemed to be propelled forward, swimming a lot faster than before. Hermione remembered Draco saying something about spells that would help them along; she guessed this was what he was talking about. For a long time, they simply swam. The water was becoming increasingly dark, until not much more was visible than the tiny dot of light from Draco’s wand.

The charms released them just as sudden as they had grabbed hold of them earlier. Draco stopped swimming and pulled her next to him. Hermione still couldn’t see anything significant. She looked at him questioningly, only to have him grin back, take a firm hold of her, and pull her with him for another few meters.

Hermione gasped at the sight before her once they pushed through the wards. Beneath her was one of the most exquisite cities she had ever seen. Slender towers rose up in the air, interconnected by narrow, arching bridges. High windows and elegant balconies made them look almost delicate.

The towers were surrounded by houses so frail looking, Hermione had difficulty believing they didn’t collapse. The roofs of the buildings were pointed, making her wonder if they were vaulted like the Sagrada Familia was. A network of streets and alleys connected all of it together. At first, there seemed to be no logic to the layout of the streets, but the longer Hermione looked at it, the more she felt like there was some order about it, she just couldn’t figure out what.

Lanterns were hung in the streets and in some of the buildings, giving the entire city an ethereal look. Hermione vaguely wondered how they managed to have lanterns burning so deep under water, but the magnificence of the sight before her overpowered her mind.

Swimming closer, she could see fish, both solitary and in shoals, swimming in between and through the structures. Starfish, clamps and corals were growing everywhere. Hermione knew it shouldn’t be possible, they were far too deep below the surface for any of these species to survive here. It confounded her to no end.

She spooked as Draco touched her arm. He laughed soundlessly as she smiled at him apologetically. He was still holding her hand and she had mindlessly been dragging him along, completely forgetting about his company as she stared at the underwater city.

With a sharp move of his head, he signed her to follow along. He swam to a floating piece of wood. Pulling her alongside him to look at it, Draco tapped it lightly with his wand. Slowly, letters started to appear. Another gasp escaped Hermione as she could finally read the words.

“Welcome to the sunken city of Atlantis.”

Hermione looked from the board, to the city, to Draco, and back to the board. She couldn’t believe what was written there.  _ Atlantis? This is the famous city of Atlantis?  _ Part of her wondered why she was surprised. After all the things she’d seen, certainly it shouldn’t be such a big surprise that Atlantis truly did exist?

Draco pulled on her hand and started swimming towards the city. She willingly followed. Swimming through the streets of the underwater city felt utterly surreal. Hermione tried to picture how those ancient people used to live there. Scattered throughout the buildings were discarded pots and pans, furniture of an elegant and intricate design, and remnants of paintings on the walls. She was bursting with questions, however, they would have to wait until they were back at the surface.

After some time, having swum in and out of buildings and around towers, Hermione’s legs were starting to hurt. Letting go of Draco’s hand, she drifted in place, rubbing her hands over her thighs in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension.

Draco turned and gave her a funny look. He questioningly pointing a finger towards the surface. With regret, Hermione nodded her assent. Not long after, the magical current was hurtling them back towards the island.

After having been underwater for so long, the shock of breaking through the surface was slightly disorienting. They let the waves carry them towards the shore until they could easily stand on their feet. Hermione watched as Draco rose from the water, the droplets running down his chest as he dragged a hand through his hair. A playful feeling came over her.

“Draco?” she asked, once more letting go of his hand.

“Yes?”

As soon as he turned towards her, she slammed her hands into the water, splashing him. For a moment, he stared at her in shock. Hermione giggled at his expression. He narrowed his eyes and retaliated in kind.

They started splashing each other like kids in a swimming pool, their laughter filling the air. Somewhere during their mock fight, Draco let go of the bubblehead charm, causing them both to occasionally swallow salt water. Eventually, Draco simply dashed forward. Hermione tried to run away, but the water seemed to slow her down more than him. He pinned her hands behind her back, pulling her flush against him.

“You little minx,” he said, breathing heavily.

Hermione could feel the heat of his body seeping into hers. She was trapped against him, but instead of being afraid, she felt secure and safe. Looking up, she could see his eyes were once more the color of a raging storm, dark and exciting. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. His lips were chiselled and pink against his pale complexion. She bit her lip, not understanding what was coming over her.

Standing as close to him as she was, she could feel his breath speeding up. She tore her eyes away from his mouth to look back at his eyes. The look he gave her caused her to moan softly. She didn’t know looks could do that to a person.

A shudder ran through Draco. He bend his head lower, tilting her face up with a finger under her chin. Hermione stared at him, unable to move, but for an entirely different reason than before. When Draco exhaled and kissed the top of her head, she somehow felt bereft.

“Come on, princess. Let’s get out of the water and into some warm, dry clothes. You must have a million questions to ask me.”

Dazed, she followed him to the beach. With a wave of his wand, he turned her bathing suit back into her dress. With another wave, he both dried her clothes and herself.

“I think we better wait with taking care of your hair until we’re back at the hotel,” he said, giving her braided bun a critical look.

Hermione nodded. She unashamedly looked at him as he pointed his wand at himself, dried all the water from his body, and started redressing.

“Could you stop staring at me?”

_ Is he angry? _ “Why?” she asked, biting her lip.

“It’s unnerving.”

“Oh,” she looked around. “But you’re the only thing worth looking at around here.”

He stopped buttoning his shirt to give her a surprised look. She marvelled at how easily his face melted into a smirk.

“I know.”

This confused Hermione.  _ If he knows, why can’t I look? And why can’t I tear my eyes of him in the first place? _ She shook her head, trying to make sense of it all.

“Are you coming?”

Looking up, she noticed he was already walking back to the hotel. She skipped after him, feeling a bit wobbly on her legs. Inside, they once more settled on the loveseat.

Draco gave her a solemn look. “Shoot,” he said.

Hermione grinned. “Atlantis? Really? The city of legends? That Atlantis?”

He laughed. “You still can’t believe it?”

“It’s just- It’s just so surreal!”

“You’ve said a variation of that with each Wonder we’ve visited. That’s why we call it a Wonder.”

She stuck out her tongue, causing Draco to laugh even harder.

“Who lived there? How did they build those buildings? Why did it sink? How did it sink? When did it-”

“Whoa, princess, one at the time!” He lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. “Let me see. There is very little known about the people who lived there or the magic that they used. The lanterns you saw,” Hermione nodded, “we don’t know how they work. They are just as ancient as the city itself and, for as far as we know, never go out.”

He ordered drinks for the both of them from a passing waiter.

“There are a few ancient texts that mention the Atlantis people, but they are written in a barely known language and a lot gets lost in translation. What we do know is that they were a very closed off community with very advanced magic and a complex society. We assume that magic is interweaved with the buildings, strengthening the stones themselves, fusing them together, but we don’t know for certain. Unknown magic can be very dangerous to toy with. There’s some debate about whether or not we should investigate further.”

Hermione accepted her glass of water from the waiter and took a sip, happy to get the salt out of her mouth. She watched Draco’s profile as he stared into the fire, relating her all he knew about the Wonder. His knowledge is impressive.

“Nobody knows why and how the city sank. Some say it was caused by an earthquake, or a shifting of the tectonic plates, some say it was magic. Those that believe there to be a magical cause, are divided into those thinking it was a magical accident, those believing it was a result of the last Atlantian dying and those who think the Atlantians decided to hide their city and spread across the world. Some people even believe the Atlantians were the first magical people. They spread across the continents and their offspring form the magical communities we know today.”

He gave her a sideway glance and she smiled at him. “How was the city rediscovered?”

“When mention of the city was discovered in ancient, reliable texts, people started looking. This general area is called the ‘Bermuda Triangle’ by the Muggles. Some researchers theorised that the residual magic from the city is causing all the Muggle accidents that happen here. Muggle technology and magic don’t mix. Plus, the magic disrupts the natural currents of the water, influencing the weather. It took them a while, but they found it.”

They sipped their drinks while staring into the fire. Occasionally, Hermione would ask another question and Draco would answer with what he knew. After lunch, Hermione went up to their room to brush her hair, Draco following soon after to braid it. Not having much to do, they took a walk around the island before once more settling down on the couch to read. Their day was only interrupted by the arrival of the portkey to their last Wonder.

“It seems we will be leaving early tomorrow morning,” Draco noted.

“Where are we going?” Hermione asked, knowing he would never tell but feeling like teasing him. Predictably, he rolled his eyes at her. She nudged him with her foot. “I could only try.”

xXxXxXx

When they woke up the next morning, wind was howling around the hotel and rain was battering against the window panes. Hermione opened her eyes to see Draco staring out of the window. He turned to smile at her as she mumbled an incoherent ‘good morning’.

“It’s a good think we already visited the Wonder,” he said. “It seems like this storm will last a couple of days. You should get up if you want breakfast before we leave.”

“Hmm, must I?” she protested, burrowing herself further into the pillows. “I like it here.”

Draco laughed. “You can always skip breakfast.”

Hermione opened an eye to glare at him.  _ Skip breakfast? Skip food? Is he crazy? _

“Guessed not,” he continued. “I can promise you, our next destination will be warm and sunny.

“All right.” Hermione crawled out of bed, tugging at her nightshirt which had ridden up her legs during the night. From the corner of her eye, she could see Draco hurriedly returning his gaze outside. He turned his back to her in the process.  _ Does he think I’m ugly? Why does that bother me so much? _

After breakfast, they went back to their room, Draco having gotten permission to portkey from there given the horrible weather. Draco unexpectedly wrapped an arm around her waist as they held the stone between their hands. Hermione leaned into him, delighted by his proximity.

Draco counted down the seconds. “Three, two one-“

The first thing that hit her upon arrival was the stifling heat.  _ Warm and sunny he calls this! Warm and sunny! I feel like I’ve arrived in an oven! _ She did, however, understand why he had insisted she’d not wear a jacket.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she opened her eyes, promptly losing the carefully inhaled air. In front of her, a flat plane gave way to mountains and mountains of white-golden sand. The heat made the air shimmer, messing with her vision. The sand seemed to spread on endlessly. The entire scene seemed still as a painting. A hot breeze stirred the sand, breaking the spell Hermione was under.

“What is this place?” she asked breathlessly.

“The desert, princess. This is a desert. And this,” he gently turned her around, “is the lost library of Alexandria.”

Hermione gaped. Beneath them, a city sprawled across the vast, rocky plane. It’s vastness, however, was completely lost in comparison to the immense tower at the center of it. Gawking, she let her gaze wander from the bottom, all the way to the top.

The structure was made from the same stone that she could see all around her. It would have blended in perfectly with its surroundings, were it not for its immense size. Windows and built-in terraces were spread hap-hazard along the structure, some of them having plants hanging out of them.

“That’s- That’s a library?” she stuttered.

“Yes.”

“Filled with books?”

“And scrolls.”

She turned towards him, not believing his words. “Really?”

He grinned at her disbelief, making the corners of his eyes crinkle slightly. “Yes, princess, really. We will visit it tomorrow.”

“We’re going to visit it?” She couldn’t prevent the squeal that accompanied her words.

Draco laughed and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, princess, we’re going to visit it. Now, I’m going to cast a spell on your eyes so they don’t get burned from the glare. Your vision will darken somewhat.”

She stood still as he pointed his wand at her. The spell made her feel like she suddenly stepped into a shadow. She blinked to get used to it. Turning back to look at the city, she could discern a lot more detail.

Draco dug up a scarf and wrapped it around her head, before wrapping one around his own. “So we don’t cook our brains,” he stated, firmly securing it with another charm. “Let’s go.” She intertwined their fingers as he took hold of her hand. Draco looked down at them before smiling at her. “We’ve got a bit of a walk ahead of us. Let me know when you get too hot, I’ll cast a cooling charm.”

Their trek toward the city was a torturous affair. “I think I’m starting to dislike this desert,” Hermione grumbled. “Why don’t you Apparate us?”

“There are several wards around the city, preventing Apparating in or towards it. Once in the city itself, we can Apparate at will.”

“That doesn’t do us much good now, does it?”

He gave her a sideway glance, before lifting his wand and casting another cooling charm. “Better?”

She sighed with relief. “Yes.”

“You become grumbly when you’re too hot, princess.”

_ How can he stay so composed? _ Hermione wondered, feeling jealous. “Why are you so calm?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got some experience with brutal weather. Try playing Quidditch in a thunderstorm.”

“Quidditch?”

“I haven’t told you about Quidditch yet?” he asked, surprised.

“Uhm, no?”

“I can’t believe myself!” he said. “All this time we spent together, and I haven’t told you about the most glorious sport ever to be invented.”

Hermione listened as he launched into an explanation of the sport and its history. She found it difficult to image and soon lost interest in ever seeing the brutal sport, but she nodded and hummed along, happy about the distraction. It made their walk seem less vexing, and soon they were standing in front of an imposing pair of wooden gates.

They were at least 7 meters high. Although they were withered, intricate, geometrical carvings were clearly visible on its surface. Metal studs accentuated the knots within the pattern. The dark wood of the gate contrasted with the lighter sandstone that formed the wall, and Hermione wondered what tree it came from.

Draco pulled out his wand. “This is an all-wizard city, so you might see some odd things,” he told her. “We can roam the city as much as you like, just don’t leave on your own, all right princess?”

Hermione nodded. “Ok. But how do we get in?” She didn’t see a handle or a knocker or even a barred window in the gate.  _ How are they supposed to know we’re here? _

She watched as his trademark smirk spread across his face. He turned back to the gates and, with a nonchalant gesture, tapped the wood with the tip of his wand. Immediately, the gates started to open. Hermione watched in awe, bewildered by the complete lack of noise to accompany the great doors swinging open.

Draco tugged on her hand. “They won’t be open for long. They’re tied to the wards, so they only respond to wizards and witches. It also makes them vulnerable for attack, so they close very quickly.”

His words were accompanied with a soft thud of the wooden gates closing behind them. Looking over her shoulder, Hermione could see two sentries holding watch. They looked fierce, wearing brown-coloured robes that had a distinct armour-feel to them, without actually resembling it. Their eyes were encircled with charcoal, their heads covered with a turban.

“They’re wearing swords!” Hermione gushed in surprise.

Draco turned when she suddenly stopped walking. “Yes. They are trained in both magical and muggle defence. You really don’t want to mess with them. Before you know it, you’ll be laying on the ground, hurting all over, wondering what happened.”

“Are you- Are you talking from experience?”

He scrunched up his nose. “Sadly enough, yes. I was a foolish teenager at the time, but it’s not an experience I’m likely to ever forget.”

She grinned and playfully shoved him towards the sentries. “Do it again! Show me!” she teased him. Loud laughter escaped her as he gave her a horrified look.

“Sweet Merlin, no! Never again.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her along. “Come on, let’s go, before you get any more of those brilliant ideas.”

Still giggling, Hermione let him pull her into the city. Soon, curiosity took over and she was staring at the sights around her.

The buildings were square and low, growing taller the closer they were situated to the tower. The windows were small and few. There wasn’t any glass in them, but wooden shutters were attached to all of them. Draco was guiding her along a wide street, but most of the streets she saw on either side were narrow and shadowed. Laundry was hung from cables spanning between the houses, sometimes blocking a street.

The people she saw were as diverse as the colour pallet of the city was bland. They were mostly all dressed the same: loose pants, sturdy shoes and long-sleeved tunics. The women sometimes wore skirts or dresses, the clothes often clenched at the waist. Everybody’s head was covered, either with a turban or a wrapped scarf.

However, despite the monotone style, the clothing diverged immensely in colour and pattern, bringing life into the city. From their faces, Hermione could tell the people were from all corners of the world. She marvelled at how all these different cultures could coexist.

“We’re standing out,” she finally whispered to Draco, noticing the inhabitants staring at them.

“I know. We’re heading to a clothing store, almost there,” he answered.

Not long after, they re-emerged on the streets wearing local clothing. She allowed Draco to pick hers, and she was feeling pretty in her light-blue tunic, dark-blue pants and white head-scarf. Draco wore an entirely charcoal outfit in a fabric that had a light shimmer to it. She thought he looked absolutely dashing.


	10. The Wonder that is Alexandria

“Let’s go to the souk next,” he said. “We’ll visit the gardens later today, or perhaps tomorrow.”

They walked through the streets, hand in hand, until a buzzing sound reached Hermione’s ears. It soon grew louder, sounding like a lot of voices talking and shouting.

“What’s that?” she asked, tilting her head to try and figure out where the sound was coming from.

“The general hub of the souk,” Draco answered. “It’s always busy there. You could call it a market, but that doesn’t do it justice. It will be busy, just like the Nishiki market in Kyoto, but worse.”

“Even worse?”  _ How can it be worse than that? _

“Yes, definitely. Just try to ignore the noise and you’ll be fine.”

They rounded a corner and Hermione looked at what was the most confusing sight she had ever beheld. Under covered streets, shops displayed an impressive amount of trinkets, fabrics and foods. Scarves were displayed next to lamps and mirrors, tapestries were rolled out and on top of each other or hanging from the ceiling. There were statues, paintings and plates, stalled next to a massive amount of shoes hanging from wooden displays. Bags of spices and dried fruits faced a glass case filled with golden jewellery. From further within, she could hear animals adding to the general racket that was the market.

Shopkeepers were sitting in front of their shops, either on the ground or in chairs. Some were debating with customers, gesturing dramatically. People were milling about, their colourful clothing only adding to the confusion. The noise was deafening, but seemed to fit within the whirlwind of impressions.

“Are you alright?”

Hermione took a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I am. It’s a tad bit overwhelming…”

“Now that’s an understatement,” Draco laughed. “Are you ready to go explore?”

She beamed at him. “Yes!”

Draco held a tight grip on her hand as she dashed into the throng of people. She couldn’t believe the diversity of items present at the souk, and she was determined to study them all. When she reached out to skim her fingers over the wooden artwork around a mirror, Draco quickly covered her hand and pulled it back.

“Don’t touch anything, these people tend to be shrewd and claim that touching it is the same as buying it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, but it is how they think.”

She shrugged and moved on. For a long time, she simply stared at the tapestries, trying to follow the designs with her eyes, wondering how anybody could weave such a thing without mistakes. The shapes and colours of the lamps and incense burners made her smile. She wondered what types of shadows they would cast. Eventually, she ended up at a jewellery store. Heavy necklaces were displayed next to endless rows of bracelets. Rings were placed in holders, while earring hung from small racks.

“See something you like?” Draco slid up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“They’re all so pretty,” she answered.

“Which one do you like the most?”

_ That’s an impossible question. Look at how many there are! _ She studied the display before her, until her eyes fell on a bracelet that reminded her of the forest. The links looked like little branches, tiny leaves and golden pearls randomly scattered around them. It made her think of mistletoe.

“That one,” she said, pointing out the bracelet.

“Then it is yours.”

“What?”

He kissed the side of her head. “It is yours.”

“But, Draco, it’s expensive, I can’t repay you.”

He gently caught her chin between his fingers, tilting her head so he could look her in the eye. “Princess, what did I tell you about me and money?”

“That you have more of it than you can spend.”

“Exactly. So I’m going to buy you this bracelet, it suits your spirit. Allow me to spend my money on you, princess.”

Hermione got momentarily distracted as his thumb caressed her lower lip. Dazed, she simply nodded, earning her a smile.

“See, that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He kissed the top of her head and turned towards the shop owner, who was standing at a discreet distance. Translation spells were cast and they began arguing back and forth. As their hassling continued, Hermione gently touched her lips.  _ Why does it tingle? I want him to do that again. _

Her musings were interrupted with Draco’s return. He gently took her hand and flattened it against his chest, allowing him to wrap the bracelet around her wrist.

She turned her wrist left and right, staring at the jewellery in awe. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yes, yes you are.”

Hermione glanced up at him and then quickly looked away, blushing. “You think I’m beautiful?”  _ He thinks I’m beautiful! _ She didn’t really know what to do with that information, but it pleased her immensely.

“Yes Princess, I do.” He once more grabbed her hand. “Come on, there’s lots more to see.”

With a goofy grin on her face, she let him pull her through the crowd. She could see light at the end of the street and the sound of animals was steadily getting louder. Hermione stopped as they came upon a large allotment filled with all sorts of animals.

There were those she knew, like sheep, goats, chickens and a few camels and horses, but there were creatures there she had never seen before. She nearly jumped in surprise when one of the horses spread out its wings. There were tiny blue creatures fluttering in a cage and she blinked when a monkey-like creature suddenly vanished from sight.

Right in front of her, she spotted a cute-looking creature that mostly resembled a mole. It was looking at her intently. Smiling, she reached out to it.

“What’s that?”

Draco quickly grabbed her hand, pulling it back. “A niffler,” he said.

“Is it dangerous?” Hermione asked, surprised by his behaviour. It didn’t look dangerous at all.

He smiled. “Not at all, but they’re used to dig up gold and jewels. Anything shiny, really. Your bracelet would have been gone before you knew it.”

She cradled her wrist against her chest. “It would steal my bracelet?”

“Most definitely.”

That moment, a magnificent red and golden bird flew into the sook and landed on a perch. Hermione could hear Draco suck in a breath.

“He can’t be selling a Phoenix!” he muttered under his breath before turning towards the shop owner and casting the translator spell.

“A what?” Hermione questioned, mesmerized by the bird.

When Draco didn’t answer, she shrugged and stepped closer to the bird. It looked at her with oddly knowing eyes. She didn’t doubt the animal was intelligent.

“Hello there,” Hermione greeted, reaching out. It answered with a thrill. “Aren’t you pretty. Do you have a name?”

“Don’t touch him! He’ll-“

Hermione ignored the unfamiliar voice as her fingers reached the feathers on the bird’s chest. It let out a chiming sound and ruffled its feathers a bit. When Hermione lowered her hand, the bird deftly stepped on her wrist, before climbing up to her shoulder and nuzzling its beak in her hair.

“I think he likes me!” she beamed at Draco. “What?”

Both Draco and the shop owner were staring at her, dumbfounded.

“That’s a Phoenix, Princess. Extremely rare creatures, rumoured to be immortal. This one, apparently, showed up about a year ago and refuses to be petted by anyone. It pecks at anyone who comes too close. It’s of the domesticated kind, but is currently owned by no-one.”

“Nobody wants to buy him?” She reached up to once more pet his feathers.

“You don’t buy a Phoenix, the Phoenix chooses you.”

“Oh.”

The bird let out another thrilling sound, before lightly nipping at her ear and returning to its perch.

“I guess that means he hasn’t picked me?” Hermione asked.

Draco turned to the shop owner, who shook his head.

“No, he hasn’t.”

She shrugged. “You’ll find your new owner soon, I’m sure of it,” Hermione said, smiling up at the bird. It cocked its head at her.

Draco shook his head. “Let’s head towards the gardens, before one of these animals does adopt you.”

Waving at the Phoenix in goodbye, Hermione followed him out of the sook and through the small alleyways that made up the city. She wondered how he managed to navigate without getting lost, but figured there was some form of magic involved.  _ Having magic sure is easy. _

Finally, they arrived at a relatively low wall with a highly decorated, iron cast gate. Draco grinned at her before flattening his hand against the gate, willing it to open. They stepped into what seemed to be a small courtyard. Gallery’s provided shade on all four sizes, a small pond with a fountain creating the tinkling noise of falling water. An archway on the other side lead into the actual garden.

Curious, she skipped around the fountain towards the archway. She gasped as she stepped through it. The garden was by far the most exquisite she had ever seen. Even the ones at Kyoto paled in comparison. It wasn’t lush and overflowing with plants, they were in the middle of the desert after all, but there was something about the sparse use of plants and the symmetry in it that caught Hermione’s attention.

Looking around, she tried to grasp what it was that made the gardens so special. Tall palm trees lined the wide path, which had a stone gully in the middle, clear water running through it. The path lead to a small gazebo with yet another fountain, plants hanging from the roof and creating a curtain around it.

Cactuses and other, sturdy looking plants, formed a rocky landscape behind the structure, while rough grasses and low bushes spread to the left and the right. The path and the gully split to the left and the right, while a different path behind the gazebo led into the rock garden. Hermione stopped her awed walking as the hanging plants started moving, without there being a breeze.

“Did those just- ?”

“Did you think only the people and the creatures here were magical, princess?” Draco teased her.

Putting a hand in the small of her back, he started guiding her through the vast gardens. Hermione was fascinated by the magical plants they encountered, barraging Draco with questions.

“Those aren’t magical!” she said more than once. “My aunt brought its dried leaves with her all the time, for the medicines.”

Draco would shake his head at her words. She could sense he wanted to argue, but let it be for her sake. Hermione was starting to become confused. Especially when one of those ‘not magical’ plants her aunt brought with her also started moving on its own.

“Are you tired?” Draco eventually asked.

She nodded at him, happy to have an excuse to go to the hotel and try to figure it all out. She never heard about magic until Draco came along. That wasn’t something Aunt Ellis would keep from her, was it?

The rest of the day passed by uneventful. Her confusion troubled Hermione the entire evening, and she caught Draco casting worried glances at her on multiple occasions. Yet, he remained silent. She didn’t know what to think of that either, nor what to think about her feelings towards him. Was it normal to feel like that? Or was there something wrong with her?

He walked past her and she took a deep breath, loving his clean scent after his shower.  _ There is most definitely something wrong with me. _ Peering over the rim of her book, she watched him drying his hair, wearing comfortable trousers and a shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and she could see the muscles in his arms move as he towelled his hair. She loved it when those arms were wrapped around her.  _ Yes, I’ve gone completely bonkers. _

Draco turned around to carelessly toss the towel on the bed. Only the second to last button of his shirt was closed, revealing his pale, well-muscled chest. Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

“You ok?”

She quickly looked up to him. “Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she quickly answered, before burying her nose back in her book, trying to hide her blush.

“Are you sure?”

He was crawling onto the bed to sit next to her. Hermione could feel herself getting even more flustered.

“Yes, I’m sure. Just- I guess I’m a bit overwhelmed. There was a lot to see today.”

He plonked down next to her, his shirt still wide open.  _ Do not touch him. Do not reach out to touch him. Why do I even want to touch him? _ Her eyes widened as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and casually pulled her against him.

“There was, wasn’t there? But did you enjoy yourself?”

“Y- Ye- Yes,” she stammered. Her book was all but forgotten, resting on her legs, her thumb in between the pages, keeping track of where she stopped reading. She could feel the warmth of his body seeping into her. Tentatively, she leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder.  _ He really does smell good. _

Yawning, she instinctively curled herself against him. Carefully, Draco picked up the forgotten book, bookmarking the page and putting it aside. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her a bit closer. In reaction, Hermione put her hand against his chest, steadying himself.  _ Strong… _

“Go to sleep, Princess. Tomorrow we will visit your favourite place, the library.”

“Okay…”

She breathed in more of his smell, relaxing and feeling safe. It wasn’t long before she was sound asleep, her worries forgotten.

xXxXxXx

The next morning, Hermione was still curled around Draco when she woke. They were no longer leaning against the headboard but stretched out on the mattress. Her head was resting comfortably on his shoulder. Draco’s arm was wrapped around her, his hand on her waist, while the other rested on the knee of the leg she had swung over his hips. He was snoring softly.

Hermione blinked and smiled. She felt fully rested, but was disinclined to even move a finger. She felt perfectly at ease, nestled against Draco’s hard, yet comfortable body. For the next half hour, she flitted in and out of sleep, counting Draco’s breaths and listening to his heartbeat.

When his arm flexed around her, Hermione stiffened, unsure about how he would react. She remembered all the ‘walls’ he built in their previous hotel rooms.

“Good morning, Princess.”

“Hi.”  _ He doesn’t mind? _

“Sleep well?”

She looked up at him to see his eyes were still closed. “Yes,” she answered, putting her head back on his shoulder.

“I’m surprised you’re still in bed. I would have thought you would be bouncing around a soon as you woke up?”

“Why?” she murmured.

“We’re going to the library, remember?”

Hermione shot up. “Yes! Yes we are, aren’t we?”  _ How could I forget? _ She gave Draco a playful shove before jumping out of bed. “Come on! We’re going to see the library!”

He laughed and rested himself on his elbows. Hermione noticed he was still wearing his shirt. Looking down at herself, she scowled.

“My clothes are all wrinkled. I slept in them.”

“That’s what has you scowling? Don’t worry, princess, magic, remember? Go take a shower and shove them out the door. I’ll sanitise them and get them wrinkle-free.”

They got ready and took a quick breakfast at the hotel, before once more venturing out into the city. Hermione was practically skipping as they headed towards the immense tower. It was a lot farther away than it seemed.

“Are we there yet?”

“Almost, princess, almost.”

They turned another corner and came upon a wide lane, flanked by palm trees. It lead right up to the massive archway that was the entrance to the tower. Just like the main gates of the city, two sentries stood watch. Two others were walking from one side of the gate to the other. They barred the way as Draco and Hermione tried to enter.

Draco gave a small bow. “We come to visit the library. We seek knowledge, not power. We treasure and do not destroy. Will you grant us access?”

Hermione watched with wide eyes as one of the sentries pulled out his wand and aimed it at Draco. She took a step towards him.

“It’s custom, they’re just checking us for forbidden objects,” Draco softly said.

She nodded and stood still as the sentry cast his spells. Eventually, they stepped aside, speaking in his native language.

“What did he say?” Hermione asked.

“You are allowed entry. You are bound to preserve and protect. Knowledge is power and power is dreadful. Be careful of what you will find.”

She gave him a questioning look.

“They are ritual words, but they hold a lot of meaning,” Draco explained. “Many have feared the knowledge hidden within these walls and have subsequently tried to destroy it. Any act of destruction is now cause for a life sentence. That’s what the first part means. The second part warns you about getting lost within the library, both physically and mentally. Plenty have come out of this place thinking they knew how to rule the world. They used the power they gained from the knowledge and caused mayhem in the world. Others found truths they couldn’t live with, going mad because of them. Some simply never emerged again, living their entire lives within those walls.”

Hermione stared at him in awe. “You wouldn’t think a library to be dangerous,” she said.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Draco answered.

They walked forward and into the main hall of the library, Hermione having a slightly frightened look on her face.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he reassured her, “I won’t let you get lost. Not in the library, nor in your mind.”

She beamed up at him and watched his face soften as he looked back. Yes, she trusted him to keep her safe. She believed he would pick her up and carry her out if she refused to leave the books behind. It was oddly reassuring.

“Let me go see if there are tours of the tower available,” he said, slowing to a stop. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Hermione watched as he walked up to a wizard behind a long reception desk on the right side of the massive hall. When they started talking, she let her eyes roam the room. The first thing she noted was that the light coming fire scones on the walls had an off colour. She couldn’t quite define what was wrong with it, but it definitely wasn’t normal fire. Shrugging, she guessed it was probably protected with magic.

The wall opposite to her was slightly curved, and probably part of a much larger circle. A grand, wooden staircase stood against it, following the curve of the wall and mounting to the left. At the bottom of the staircase were two doors, one straight ahead and one to the right.

The same sandstone she had seen throughout the city made up the walls of the tower. To her surprise, however, the ceiling was made out of wood. Massive beams going from the outer wall to the inner wall supported it. Hermione vaguely wondered where all the wood had come from, with the tower being in the middle of the desert.  _ Perhaps a desert was created by building the tower? _

Looking down, she noted that the floor was also made of the same stone, interchanged with a slightly darker type of stone. It took Hermione a while to figure out that the stones formed a pattern. Tilting her head from right to left, she let out a gasp as she realised she was looking at a massive Tree of Wisdom.

She shook her head at the discovery and returned to looking around the hall, eager to find more hidden treasures. Draco was still talking to the man at the dark, wooden reception desk. She smiled in his direction.  _ Hopefully tours are available today. _

Turning her head to the left, she let out a small squeal when she noted that the entire left wall was covered with books. Sturdy and rather uncomfortable looking chairs and benches were arranged in front of them, several writing desks positioned in the corner. One of them was currently occupied, it’s occupant furiously scribbling away, presumably copying text from the tome that was opened in front of him.

Unable to resist, she patted over to the bookcases. Her brow furrowed as she read the titles . There seemed to be no order to them at all! ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ was standing next to Thomas More’s ‘Utopia’. A bit further down the line, there was a transcript of ‘The Legend of Innana’ flanked by a collection of poems by Khalil  Gibran. She encountered ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’, ‘The Count of Monte Christo’, and ‘The Iliad’. She didn’t recognise any of the magic books that were mixed within the Muggle ones, but she saw titles like ‘Curse of the Egyptians’, ‘Liquid spells’, and ‘Theories of elementary magic’.

Draco interrupted her exploring. “I see you found your way to the books,” he teased.

She blushed prettily. “Oh, are there tours available? Please tell me there are tours available!”

“Yes,” he answered, “yes there are. You know, we got, uhm, lucky, and we’re getting the, uhm, extended tour today.” He smiled brightly at her.

Hermione was practically jumping up and down in excitement, completely missing the hesitancy in his response. “Really? Yay!” Impulsively, she reached up and kissed him on the cheeks before grabbing his hand and pulling him back to the center of the room.

“Easy, princess,” Draco laughed. “They’ve send for a guide, we have to wait until he gets here.”

They waited for a couple of minutes, Hermione constantly shifting her weight while Draco smiled at her fondly, before the guide arrived. Without any further delay, he guided them to the benches near the wall of books and started his explanation.

“Officially, the library was built in the 3 rd century B.C., however, this was merely a rebuild of a smaller, pre-existing library. The origins of the first library is currently still unknown. It is safe to say that this is the oldest library in existence.”

“When Alexander the Great ordered the current library to be build, he was, obviously, inspired by the mythical Tower of Babylon. He wanted to build a true bastion of knowledge that reached for the skies. The setup of the tower is rather simple: The main structure consists of two circular towers, one build around the other.”

He pointed to the outer and inner curved wall respectively.

“As you can see, the ceilings are made of wood, supported by wooden beams and magic. The lower five floors are fully covered and reserved for administrative purposes, living arrangements, kitchens, common rooms, and so on. Higher up, only the area’s between the inner and outer wall have floors, the inner tower remaining open for air circulation and light.”

“The stairs you see,” again he pointed to the inner wall, “follows the curve off the wall all the way to the seventh floor, where the main library can be accessed. There are some rooms underground with heavy climate regulating spells to preserve the oldest and most fragile books and scrolls. These are only accessible by the Masters.”

“For our tour, we will first visit some of the main rooms of the lower levels, before entering the library itself. In the library, I will explain the cataloguing system, how we get from one point to the other, and we will shortly visit one of the restricted sections with some very old tomes. Any questions?”

Both Draco and Hermione shook their heads, the latter with an eager look in her eyes. Their guide, who had introduced himself as Damian, gave her an odd look before smiling at her enthusiasm.

“If you would follow me?”


	11. A Magnificent Library

Hermione, Draco, and Damian got up and walked to the stairs, mounting it to the first floor.

“The ground floor is purely administrative. Every Master Scholar has his or her private office from which they conduct most of their research and where they can be found by their apprentices. There’s a registration hall, a department that controls the in and out of books, a department for the restoration of books and scrolls, and some smaller offices for visiting scholars.”

They moved off the first floor landing and into a circular hallway.

“This floor holds the hospital wing and visitors quarters. We encourage the townspeople to come here when they are sick, so that the apprentices can learn the practical side of medicine, as well as the theoretical.”

The guide led them from floor to floor, telling them the functions that were housed there and relating several funny anecdotes along the way. Hermione absorbed the information like a sponge.

When they reached the kitchens, she stared and stared in wonder at the scene in front of her. Pots and pans were cleaning themselves in the sinks, plates were flying through the air, and vegetables seemed to be cutting themselves. A couple of witches and wizards oversaw the chaos. They waved their wands around while someone – she thought it was the chef of the kitchen – barked orders at them.

“Come on, princess,” Draco murmured, tugging at her sleeve, “Enough staring already, it’s only the kitchen.”

She could hear the humour in his voice. Reluctantly, she allowed him to lead her away, looking over her shoulder at the wonders she was leaving behind. Eventually, the guide stopped on the final landing of the stairs. There was only one door, leading to the inner tower.

“So,” he said, “are you ready to see the library itself?”

Hermione nodded with vigour. Her mind provided her with all kinds of fantasies about what the library would look like, but nothing could have prepared her for the spectacle that was the lost library of Alexandria.

The first thing she noticed as their guide opened the door, was how much light came flooding their way. In all her imaginings, the library had always been dark. Bookcases flanked either side of the door, and led her eye straight to the center of the tower.

Dazed, Hermione started walking forward. The entire center was open, a massive spiral staircase circling up as far as she could see. Circular gallery upon gallery full of bookcases seemed to stretch towards the heavens. Each level was connected to the staircase by a bridge. It reminded her of a spider web.

The light-coloured stairs contrasted beautifully with the darker wood of the galleries and bookcases. Natural light was caught and reflected by a myriad of mirrors. Chandeliers hung underneath the stairs for illumination after nightfall.

Turning, Hermione could see the stone wall of the inner tower and a second support structure that looked much like the buttresses and flying buttresses she’d seen at the Sagrada Familia, only sturdier, less elegant. Archways in the wall provided glimpses to even more bookcases and writing nooks. She noticed some of them were closed off with bars.

She couldn’t fathom the amount of knowledge hidden in this tower. The warning words of the guards at the entrance suddenly made a lot more sense. She could spend her entire life here and not get bored. Awed, she returned to the edge of the gallery to gaze upwards.

“Are you lost to the magic of the library?”

Hermione was slightly startled at the words whispered in her ear. She had not noticed Draco walking up to stand behind her.

“Yes,” she breathed in answer. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Well then,” he said. She could hear a playful tone in his voice. “I promised to protect you, so I’ll do just that.” Hermione shrieked as he put a hand over her eyes and lifted her up with his other arm around her waist. “I shall get you out of this library.”

She started giggling madly. “No, no, no! Put me down! Save me later! I want to see more of the library. Draco!”

He chuckled right next to her ear, causing the sound to reverberate through her body. When he put her down, she turned around and playfully pounded his chest. Grabbing her wrists, he looked down at her, a smile still stretched wide on his face.

The moment was broken when Damien coughed discreetly. “Shall we continue the tour?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Draco answered, letting go of her wrists to take hold of her hand.

They followed the guide back to the edge of the gallery. He pointed downwards. “As you can see, there is only one level below the one where we are standing right now. That level is entirely reserved for circulation. The library is divided in sections of five levels. Each section has its own rune. The first thing any apprentice needs to learn, is the layout of the library with its corresponding rune.”

He crossed the bridge towards the staircase. “The runes are embellished in the landings of the staircase as one sometimes loses track of the amount of levels he or she has gone up and down while using this staircase.”

After having tapped his foot to direct their focus on the rune in the floor, he started descending. “The level below us is divided in small Apparition chambers, one for each sector. They provide a guided Apparition, safely depositing you in the Apparition chamber of the sector connected to it. There hasn’t been splinching in well over a century.” He looked oddly proud at the fact.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Several hallways flared out from the center, runes painted next to the archways.

“Any particular interest you have? Some topic you would like to see?”

“It’s up to you, princess,” Draco murmured.

“Really?” she asked, unable to contain her joy and excitement. “Do you have a section for magical creatures? I want to know more about that phoenix we saw.”

“You saw the phoenix at the souk?” Damien asked. “Nasty creature.”

Hermione frowned at him. “He was wonderful! He wasn’t nasty at all!”

“The bird seemed to have a liking for Hermione.” Draco intervened.

The guide stared at Hermione in surprises. “Oh, uhm, well, in that case – Magical creatures it is.” They followed him to a chamber with a rune that looked remarkably like a cat. “Can you both Apparate?”

Hermione shook her head.

“I’ll take her along,” Draco quickly said. “So, I focus on the rune, Apparate, and let the magic guide me?”

“Pretty much,” Damien nodded. “Count to ten after I’ve Disapparated and then follow me.”

Not long after, they found themselves higher up in the tower. Curious, Hermione walked towards the center and peered down.

“Doesn’t anybody ever fall down?” she asked.

“The railings are warded. You couldn’t fall down even if you wanted to.”

“How high up are we?”

“Floor 55.”

“Why haven’t I seen any other scholars?” Draco asked.

“Oh, they’re here somewhere.” Damien laughed in response. “Wait until it’s lunchtime, they will seem to appear out of nowhere.”

“How do they know it’s time for lunch?” Hermione asked.

“A gong is sounded all throughout the tower. The same applies for breakfast, dinner and sundown.”

“Sundown? Why sundown?”

“Some of those scholars need a reminder that sleep is a necessity.” Damien smirked.

Hermione dreamily looked at the books surrounding her. “I can understand that.”

“Watch it, princess. I might have to rescue you again.”

“No, you don’t! I’m fine!” She gave him a mock glare as Draco merely grinned at her.

“Right,” Damien spoke up. “Well. The transportation system is not much different than the circulation one. The newest apprentices are charged with the task of collecting books from the different levels, three times a day. This way they learn to navigate and build some Apparition stamina.”

He walked them through the library, explaining more about the workings of the tower and its history. He showed them the cataloguing system and pointed out several bookshelves where they might find information about Phoenixes, if they would like to do some research later. The rooms between the inner and outer tower was filled with books, reading nooks, restricted sections, study booths and small meeting rooms. The one scholar they saw during their tour didn’t even notice their presence.

Eventually, the stopped in front of one of the barred areas. Damien turned towards them with a solemn look on his face.

“We will now take a look at a couple of our older and restricted books. However, since their delicate nature and the fact that you’re both untrained, I must ask you to restrict any use of magic. In fact, Mr Malfoy, if you would be so kind to hand over your wand?”

Draco grunted but did as he was asked. Hermione watched him flex his hand with discomfort and reached out to hold it. He smiled warmly at her.

“You don’t like being without your wand?” she asked.

“No, but it’s all right. They told me I would have to give it up for our visit to the restricted section. Besides,” he flexed his hand around hers, “as long as you are holding my hand, I won’t even notice I’m missing something.”

Hermione felt a blush creep up her cheeks at his words. Unsure about how to respond, she decided to follow Damian further into the library, tugging Draco along. She breathed in the earthy, musty smell of old books and parchment. It immediately relaxed her.

Damien smiled upon seeing her reaction. He put on a couple of white gloves and perused the shelves. Draco and Hermione watched him as he carefully selected a book and put it on the reading table.

“Since you’re interested in phoenixes,” he said, turning the pages, “this is one of the oldest images of a phoenix recorded on paper. Older images can be found in caves and in murals of ancient buildings, but this is the oldest image in the library.”

The couple bent down to the stylishly drawn bird. The reds and oranges were faded between the lines of gold leaf, but the fierceness of the animal was still clearly visible. Drawn in full flight, it’s majestic wings and long tail spoke to the reader's imagination.

“How beautiful,” Hermione breathed.

Draco nodded in assent.

“The book speaks about phoenixes being good omens, promising longevity and good health. It also relates some myths about people being healed by a phoenix mourning their departure. Now, of course, we know there’s truth to be found behind those myths as we know that a phoenix’ tear can heal most wounds.”

Damien carefully closed the book and went in search of another one.

“At the end of the 15 th century, there were rumours of a black phoenix.” He opened a second book. “There was a lot of confusion about its meaning. Was it a good omen or a particularly bad one? Would its tears heal? Or would it kill those upon whom they fell? Sadly enough, so much of the literature found about this creature is buried under such speculation, with little to no reference to where and when it was seen, or what its believed origins was. There’s still much debate about whether or not the black phoenix was ever even real.”

Hermione stared at the drawing of a pitch-black phoenix, transfixed by its ethereal beauty. “Are black phoenixes mentioned in any other time period?” she asked.

“Not that we have found up until now,” Damien answered. “Every now and then, an intrigued scholar will once more take up the search, but to no avail.”

A gong rang loudly through the complex, making both Draco and Hermione jump in surprise.

“Ah,” Damien said, “time for lunch it seems.” He carefully picked up the book and returned it to its spot on the shelves. “You wondered where all the scholars were,” he said to Draco. “Go look now. They’ll appear like ants from a colony.”

They returned to the gallery while Damien finished up. As predicted, there was a flurry of activity going on around the galleries. Scholars with different colour robes and markings emerged from the depths of the library to gather at their sector’s Apparition room.

“Where did they all come from?” Hermione whispered.

“No idea,” Draco chuckled. “They sure know how to hide.”

Damien came to stand beside them, handing Draco back his wand. “We should join them to the Dining Hall. After we’ve eaten, I shall give you a small guide with a list of the circulation runes. If, by then, you no longer have any questions, you are free to explore the public areas of the library until the gong for dinner is rung.”

As mentioned, Draco and Hermione parted from Damien after lunch. They watched the scholars disappear back into the library before deciding for themselves which books they would look for. Hermione’s boundless enthusiasm had Draco Apparating around the library until he was panting from exertion. Initially, Hermione hardly noticed, but once she did, she started apologising profusely until Draco pulled her into his arms and softly commanded her to stop. She promptly did.

When the dinner gong sounded, they left the library. Draco practically had to drag Hermione out. She was pouting about all the books she hadn’t seen yet. Shaking his head, Draco changed the topic.

“I suggest we go buy a snack at the souk. We’re not having dinner yet.”

“Why not? The scholars are eating?”

He looked at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I made a special reservation for later tonight. You’ll see.”

No matter how much she tried, he refused to give her more information.  _ Aaah! Why does he like teasing me this much? _

They spend the early evening in the hotel room. Hermione sat herself down at the window, watching the people down in the street. Even she felt like she had seen enough books for one day. Draco lounged on the bed. It didn’t take long before he was sound asleep.

Hermione soon lost interest in the street, in favour of looking at Draco.  _ He looks so vulnerable. _ She felt the urge to crawl into the bed and snuggle up against him, but resisted.  _ I’m sure he wouldn’t like it when he woke up. No, I shouldn’t. _ She remembered his reluctance to sleep with her in one bed at the beginning of their journey. Although he had given up on building the cushion barriers, she doubted he would appreciate her invading his space like that.

She settled on watching him sleep, smiling as he mumbled incomprehensibly. Her mind went through the time they spend together. _ I was right to have him take me out of my tower. He’s so kind and gentle, and generous. He makes me feel safe, and cherished. By the woods, I love the way he moves, and how he smells, and how his voice sounds when he whispers in my ear. It makes me feel- it makes me-. _

She struggled to find the right word and finally settled on ‘warm’, knowing full well that wasn’t even close to the right word. There simply wasn’t a word in her vocabulary to describe how she felt about him. It wasn’t a feeling she had ever felt before. All she knew was that the thought of parting from him – which was bound to happen soon since this was the last Wonder – was agony. She wanted to stay with him.

Hermione did not know how long she had been staring at him, trying to figure out her own feelings, when an alarm went off. Draco jumped up, quickly reaching for his wand to silence it. With a groan, he dropped back down to the bed.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he said. “I should have kept you company. What did you do while I was sleeping?”

She looked at her fidgeting hands, blushing. “Oh, uhm, nothing much, just, uhm, watching the people in the street, thinking.”

“And did something interesting happen?”

“Uhm, not really.”

“Are you sure? You seem flushed?”

“I- I do?”

“Yes.” He shrugged and dragged his hands over his face. “Let me just freshen up and we’ll go have dinner, all right?”

Hermione nodded, turning to look back out of the window and hide her persistent blush. Not long after, they walked down to the lobby and the front desk.

“Your portkey has arrived, sir,” the receptionist said. “It will activate with a simple  _ Portus _ .”

“We’re leaving?” Hermione asked. She didn’t want to go. Not yet.

“We’re not going far, princess, don’t worry. It’s only for dinner.”

He guided her to a side room and waited for her to grab the other end of the ribbon that was their portkey before activating it. They arrived in the middle of nowhere.

“Why are we in the middle of the desert?” Hermione asked.

“You’ll see, princess, you’ll see. Now come along, up the hill.”

She followed him up the hill, only to find a blanket spread on the ground at the other side of it. Candles were sticking out of the sand, surrounding it. Two big baskets stood on one side, while a bucket with ice held a couple of bottles. Cutlery and glasses were resting on the side, on a wooden plank. When a breeze lifted some sand, it swirled around the area, as if it was covered with a protective bubble.  _ It probably is, given their magic. _

Hermione let out a delighted noise. “This is where we’ll have dinner?”

“Yes. Do you like it?”

She nodded vigorously in response. Draco put a hand at the small off her back to guide her towards the blanket. As she sat down, Hermione noticed they were facing west.

“Are we going to see the sunset?” she asked. The entire setting made her feel fluffy inside. She couldn’t believe he had taken the time to arrange all this.

“That is the plan,” he answered. “Do you want some champagne?”

She watched as he popped the cork. It flew away in a graceful arc, creating a little crater in the sand a couple of meters away. He sat himself down next to her, handing her a glass.

“Cheers!” he said, holding his glass up for a toast.

Hermione looked at him strangely, eying his glass and then hers. It took a lot of Draco’s self-control not to burst out laughing.

“It’s a custom,” he explained, gently wrapping his long fingers around hers. “When someone says cheers, you look into each other’s eyes and clinck your glasses together.” He moved her glass to bump into his, his eyes focussed intently on hers. “And then you drink.”

Blushing furiously, Hermione took a sip, unable to look away from his blazing eyes.

“There.” He smiled. “You learned something new.”

Still she was staring at him. The sky was changing into the colours of the evening sun, streaking his normally silver-blond hair with shimmers of gold.  _ He’s beautiful. _ Draco reached out a hand and lightly brushed his fingers down her cheek, causing her eyes to flutter. He shook his head and pulled back.

“Are you hungry?”

She merely nodded. When he reached for the cutlery and the baskets, she reached out to help. He playfully swatted her hands away. Mock-pouting, she rubbed her hands. Draco grinned, gently taking both her hands in his and placing feather-light kisses on her knuckles.

“There, all better.”

For the second time that evening, Hermione could only nod. They ate in relative silence, enjoying the food and watching the sunset. For dessert, there were regional, sweet cookies and Turkish Delight. After having vanished the remains of their dinner, Draco settled himself next to Hermione, just a hairsbreadth away from actually leaning against her. She could feel the heat coming from him and smelt his special smell. It made her slightly light-headed.

“Which one do you want to try first?” he asked.

“Oh.” She frowned, biting her lip in indecision. Finally, she pointed at one of the glazed cookies.

“Perfect choice, princess.” He took the cookie between his fingers. “Now open up.”

Her eyes widened in surprise.  _ Is he really going to feed me the cookie?  _ Her mind momentarily scattered, before she simply decided to trust him. Opening her mouth, she bit down on the cookie he offered her. He was looking at her intently, as she giggled and then moaned in delight over the exquisite cookie.

She could see his eyes had changed colour.  _ I’ve seen them like this before. After we visited Atlanta. When he held me to stop me from splashing water all over him. I could get lost in those eyes. _ His thumb brushed away some crumbs from the corner of her mouth.  _ He’s so close. _

“Do you believe in magic now, princess?” he purred.

His question took her out of her dazed state. “Yes, of course I believe in magic. How can I not after all I’ve seen?”

He was still looking at her, his thumb idly caressing her cheek. “And do you believe you are magical as well? Because you are. Most definitely magical.”

Hermione blinked and laughed at this preposterous idea.  _ Why does he keep insisting that I’m magical? The only thing magical about me is my hair.  _

Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco’s sigh. He pulled his wand out of his trousers and, with a lazy flick of his wand, lighted the candles surrounding them. The air was getting darker but it remained pleasantly warm. She figured there was also a warming charm in place.

Draco was twirling his wand through his fingers. He looked as if he was contemplating something. “Have I ever told you how a witch or a wizard gets his or her wand?”

“No.”

“You see, wands are made by artisans specialised in Wandcraft. In Britain, Ollivander is by far the best. He remembers every wand he has ever sold. It’s quite impressive really.” He looked back up at her. “When a witch or wizard turns 11, they get to go buy their wand. The wand always chooses the wizard, never the other way around. It’s very difficult to describe.”

Hermione smiled at the look in his eyes. It was obvious he was remembering a very fond memory.

“A wand is a very personal thing. It will never work as good for another witch or wizard as it does for you. You almost create a ‘bond’ with it. Wands can be replaced though, if they get lost or broken. Sometimes, when a person goes through a life-altering experience, their original wand doesn’t really match them anymore because they changed too much. Still, there’s nothing quite as unique as holding your very first wand.”

“Is this still your first?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Yes, it is. I’ve never had any cause to change it. Most never do, actually.” There was a small pause. “Before the age 11, children have very little control over their magic. They have accidents, of course, but no control.”

“Accidents?”

“Bursts of magic when they get upset or when they really want something. As a toddler, I always chased the peacocks at our home, wanting to have one of the pretty feathers of the male peacock. Obviously, I could never catch it. One day, or so my mother tells me, I stopped halfway through my chase, balled my fists, and very adamantly said ‘I want your feathers’. Suddenly, the peacock was as bald as a plucked chicken, and I was surrounded with feathers, laughing because I finally had the long, pretty tail-feathers I always wanted.”

Hermione burst out laughing, imagining a happy little Draco in a pile of feathers next to a very upset, bald peacock.

He laughed with her. “Yeah, I don’t think the bird ever forgave me, even though my mother restored him to his full pride.”

For a while, they both just sat there, giggling over the memory.

“A wand is meant to channel your magic,” he finally continued. “You can’t learn to shape your magic to your wishes without it. Only very skilled witches and wizards learn how to use their magic without a wand. It’s a difficult thing to learn.”

There was another pause as he looked at his wand, and back at her. He turned the wood in his hands, the handle pointing towards her. “Here,” he said, “take it.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed in surprise. “You want me to hold it?”

“Yes, princess,” he answered, his eyes shining in the candlelight. “Take it. Just don’t start waving it around, you never know what could happen.” He winked at her.

_ Is he serious? He just told me a wand is such a personal thing! And he’s offering his to me? Why? _ She stared at him, unsure what to do. He moved his hands a bit, tilting his head in curiosity and encouraging her.

Tentatively, she reached out. When she wrapped her hand around the polished wood, the most curious feeling came over her. She didn’t know how to describe it. It felt marvellous, ecstatic, exuberant, joyful. It felt warm and tingling, like a pleasant form of static just below her skin.

She raised her arm to hold the wand in front of her face, studying it and watching small sparkles shoot from its tip. She was so entranced that she almost missed the sharp intake of breath next to her. Turning, she saw that Draco was looking at her with wide eyes.

“You can’t be!” he whispered.

Hermione dropped the wand, afraid she had done something wrong. “What? What did I do?”

He shook his head, his eyes still impossibly wide. “I know you.”


	12. Revelations

**xXxDracoxXx**

He mutely shook his head at her ‘Of course you know me’. He couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t be, could she? How could he have missed it? How was it even possible. He dragged his hand through his hair and across his face.

“Draco! Draco talk to me! What did I do wrong?”

Hermione’s frantic voice broke through his daze. “Nothing, princess, nothing. Just- just let me compose myself for a minute.”

He looked at his wand lying in front of her. From day one he had known she was magical. He remembered the feeling of recognition he’d had back then, like he already knew her. Thinking it impossible, he had brushed it away, shoved it to the back of his head.

Realisation had hit the moment she turned in profile, the wand held in front of her face, that wondrous, happy look on her face. He had to be sure, he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Even though, deep down, he already knew he was right.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“I’m 18. Draco, what’s-“

“And how long did you live in that tower?” he interrupted.

“For as long as I can remember. My aunt says we moved there when I was three, after my parents died.”

“How did they die?”

“In a fire. Draco, what’s going on? Please tell me what’s happening!”

_ Oh Sweet Merlin, I can’t believe this! _ He dragged his hand through his hair again, messing it up. “Let me tell you a story.”

“What?”

“I’m going to tell you a story. Please listen Hermione, princess. I’ll explain after.”

She frowned but nodded at him, causing him to take a deep breath and launch into the tale.

“In the British Magical Society, we have, what we call, the Sacred 28 families. These are the 28 most noble and influential families. My family is part of them, along with the Black family, the Prewett’s, the Greengrass’, the Parkinson’s and the McGonagall’s. Are you following so far?”

She glared at him.

“Right. Well, uhm.” He didn’t really know how to continue. What to explain first? “There are rivalries between the families. We are all trying to one-up each other, get more influence in the ministry, become richer than the other, and so on.”

“Why would you want to do that?” Hermione interrupted.

Draco gave her an incredulous look. He opened his mouth, but realised he actually didn’t really have an answer. “For family pride, princess,” he finally said. “But, to continue, even despite all those rivalries, we are a tight knit bunch. We form or own social circle, which includes parties, dinners, etc. The children from the Sacred 28 practically grow up with each other. They are still amongst my best friends.”

He sighed and glanced at Hermione. She was avidly listening, her confusion temporarily forgotten.

“Everything was all good, until tragedy struck.” He glanced up again as Hermione gasped and put her hands in front of her mouth. “The McGonagall’s weren’t a large family. Only Minerva, her husband, Ernest, and their daughter. She was a feisty little thing, always full of energy.” He smiled at the memory of running after the three year old girl,  five years younger than him. It seemed like she never got tired.

“What happened?” Hermione whispered.

He shook his head in sorrow. “I remember that Minerva almost died at the birth of their daughter. Somehow, Madame Pomfrey managed to keep her alive. They were so happy together, you could really see their joy.” Another sigh. “There was a fire. It burned down their cottage near Hogsmeade.”

“Oh no!” Hermione gasped.

“Yes. Minerva and Ernest were out for the evening, enjoying a dinner, just the two of them. When they returned, there wasn’t much left but a smouldering pile of debris. The Aurors were already looking through the rubble. Two charred bodies were found; that of the babysitter and their daughter.”

He pulled Hermione against him when he noticed she was crying. He knew he shouldn’t - things just got a hell of a lot more complicated – but he couldn’t stand her tears.

“Their grief was immense. They lost their daughter and a good friend. Ernest refused to believe that they were dead, though, stating that their friend was a strong witch. He kept telling everybody that she would have escaped, she would have Apparated. There was no way that she would have died in a mere fire. The Aurors never found the woman’s wand, so they couldn’t disprove his theory. They searched for a couple of months. No clue could be found, so they officially declared them dead.”

He closed his eyes in remembrance. He had only been 8 at the time, but he still remembered the broken look of Minerva McGonagall and the wild despair that clung to her husband.

“It broke them,” he whispered. “Later, I found out that Minerva was no longer able to have children. They had no hope of continuing their family line. Ernest wasted away in his grief. He died not long after. Minerva took his teaching position and secluded herself from the world. She hasn’t visited a social function ever since. She has become a stern, strict but righteous woman. Her devotion to her job and the students is absolute. But if you know when and where to look, you can still see the pain she carries with her.”

“That poor woman.” For a while, they were surrounded by silence. “But what has that to do with how you reacted?” Hermione asked.

Draco grabbed his wand and looked at it, stalling for time. Finally, he turned to Hermione. “This tragedy, it happened 15 years ago. The child was three years old at the time.”

“So? What does that mean?”

“Do you remember when I first saw you? I asked if we had met before.”

“I remember.”

He waited to see if she would connect the dots. When she didn’t, he let out a sigh and resumed talking.

“I knew that little girl very well, princess. Ernest and my father were good friends, so we visited each other quite often.” He put a finger under her chin and turned her so she was facing him. “The girl’s name was Hermione.”

“Like me?” There was a small tremble in her voice.

“I think you and her are one and the same. I think, Hermione, that you are Minerva’s daughter. I think that Ernest was right; you didn’t die in that fire. The family friend, Ella Sherwood, kidnapped you and set that fire to hide her crime.”

Hermione pulled back. “No! Aunt Ellis would never do that! Why would she do that?”

He reached out for her but she flinched back.

“I’m sorry, princess, I know this must be hard. But look at the facts. You are magical. You can brew Wolfsbane potion. You felt your magic when you held your wand. There’s no use in denying it anymore. Your Aunt kept this a secret from you. Why? Why but other than to prevent you from learning how to defend yourself?”

“No! No! You are lying!”

“Princess.” His voice nearly broke with compassion. He hated himself for hurting her so, but she needed to know the truth. “Princess, that tower you lived in? It has no stairs. I walk around it, trying to find it, but there was none. I think your Aunt Apparated up into a room under the floorboards.”

“No! This can’t be! This can’t be true!”

He noticed her defences going down as she saw the truth behind his words and pulled her back to him, letting her cry against his shoulder.

“Why? Why would she do that? Why would she lie to me?”

Heavy sobs wracked her body and all he could do was hold on to her. He wanted to shield her from the pain, tell her it would be all right, but knew it was a lie. He could make heads nor tails of it all.  _ Why indeed? What would be the purpose of kidnapping Hermione? A three year old child? _

Hermione suddenly stiffened in his embrace. “My hair!” she whispered. “She did it because of my hair! All those years she warned me about people who wanted me because of my hair. Who wanted to use me. When all this time, she was the one using me.”

“Uhm, your hair?” Draco asked.  _ Wait, right, her hair glows and heals people. Of course! _

She started fidgeting. “Yeah, uhm, I never told you?”

“I think you have,” he answered. “It heals, right?”

Hermione nodded. “I used it for her all the time. I never questioned it, she’s the one who raised me after all. But if-“ she swallowed, “but if what you’re saying is true, then that must be the reason. She doesn’t want me, she wants my hair!”

She started sobbing again. Draco rocked her back and forth in his arms, trying to calm her down but knew it was futile. He felt sorry for her. Her entire world was crumbling around her.

“Are you,” she sniffed, “are you only here for my hair too?”

“No!” he cried out in shock, pushing her away from him so he could look her in the eye. “No, princess, don’t think that! I’m fa- I couldn’t care less about your hair! I’m magical, remember?” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“But so is my Aunt.”

He blinked at that statement.  _ That’s true. Then why? _ “Perhaps she has a disease that magic can’t solve?” He wasn’t sure if that even existed, but he had to tell her something. “Or perhaps she simply wants to stay young?” That sounded awfully vain, even to him, but it was a possibility.

She shrugged helplessly. He cradled her head in his hands and wiped at her tears with his thumbs.  _ There’s only one way to see this through, to learn the truth. _ “We have to head to Hogwarts,” he stated with finality.

“Hogwarts?”

“I haven’t told you about Hogwarts?”

Hermione shook her head. He thought back and realised that, no, he hadn’t told her about it. When they talked about his childhood, the topic of magic was still being avoided. He had talked about school in general, but never mentioned the castle.

“It’s a school for magic. After we buy our wand at age 11, we go to Hogwarts to learn how to use it.”

Her eyes lightened up and he had to suppress a chuckle. “There’s a school for magic?” she asked, excited.

“Yes, princess. There are more of them, actually. But Hogwarts is by far the best of them all. Minerva McGonagall, your mother, teaches Transfiguration there.”

She blinked owlishly. “I have a mother? She’s still alive?”

He smiled at her. “Yes, princess, she’s still alive, and we are going to go meet her. Now, up you go! I need to contact Blaise.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. Searching his pockets, he found the ribbon that served as their portkey. “Hold on,” he said, holding the ribbon between their hands, just as they did with the stones Blaise always sent. “ _ Portus! _ ”

Arriving at the hotel, Hermione went up to their room as he walked to the front desk to write a letter to Blaise.

_ “Mate, _

_ Make your excuses to the woman you’re currently entertaining and get your ass here. ASAP! _

_ Draco” _

“Please dispatch this note with your fastest bird immediately,” he asked the receptionist.

“Certainly, Mr Malfoy. Will that be a long distance or a short distance delivery?”

He blinked at the question. “I honestly have no idea.”

“No worries, sir, it will be taken care off.”

Nodding his thanks, he turned and left. When he arrived at their room, Hermione was already under the covers. He grabbed the comfortable trousers and T-shirt he usually wore to bed and headed for the bathroom, still reeling from his earlier discovery.  _ I have been travelling with Hermione McGonagall. How could I not have noticed? How? It’s not like Hermione is a common name. Sweet Merlin, such a messed up situation. _

Returning to the bedroom, he noticed Hermione wasn’t sleeping but blankly staring ahead of her. He walked around the bed and crawled under the covers next to her.

“I’ve messaged Blaise. I don’t know where he is but he should be here tomorrow or the day after.”

“All right.”

He frowned at her lifeless answer. He didn’t know how to react to it, she was always so bubbly.  _ I can only imagine how she feels. Her entire world has been turned upside down. _ After some deliberation, he reached out an arm and pulled her back flush against his chest.

“It will be ok, princess. We’ll figure this out, don’t you worry.”

A shiver went through her and she pressed herself closer to him. “Do you think so?”

He hated how small her voice sounded. “Yes, princess, I really do think so,” he answered, kissing the top of her head. “Now go to sleep, it’s late.”

Her hand covered his and held it tight, as if to make sure he wouldn’t disappear. Draco stayed awake, listening to her breathing slow down and feeling her body relax against his. Only when he was certain she was peacefully sleeping did he close his eyes and follow her into temporary oblivion.

Blaise found them not long after breakfast, while they were both reading in the hotel’s lounge. Draco was getting more worried by the minute. Hermione seemed distracted and withdrawn. She hardly paid attention to the book she was attempting to read and he had to call her name twice before she reacted to him. Looking up to see Blaise was a huge relief.

“Mate! You got here quickly!”

“Who do you think you are? Summoning me away from my fe-“ he glanced at Hermione, “my most friendly company? I’m not your servant you know!”

Draco merely smirked, knowing it was all boasting with no real vehemence in it. Blaise frowned at the lack of reaction from Hermione.

“Is she ok?”

“I’ll be right back,” Draco said to Hermione. She nodded vaguely. He turned to Blaise and guided him out of the room. “We need to talk. How did you get here so quickly anyway?”

“I was sticking around, knowing this was your last stop. What’s up? What’s wrong with your girl?”

Draco dragged his hand over his face. “Long story, mate. Do you remember the McGonagall’s?”

“Do I remember Professor McGonagall? What kind of question is that? Of course I remember her!”

“No, not just the Professor. Do you remember what happened to the family? When we were about 8 years old?”

“Draco, you know that tragedy is practically a taboo subject. Why are you bringing it up?”

“Do you remember how Ernest McGonagall kept refusing to acknowledge that his daughter was dead and kept telling everybody she must have been kidnapped?” Blaise nodded, an uncomfortable look on his face. “I think he was right.”

“What?” Blaise bellowed. “By Circe’s tits, where is this coming from?”

“I think Hermione,” he vaguely waved towards the lounge, “is actually Hermione McGonagall.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Draco heaved a sigh. “Just hear me out. She’s 18 years old and has been living in that tower ever since she was 3. Her aunt told her her parents died in a fire. Her name is Hermione, hardly common, now is it. When I first saw her, I thought I met her before. Even you mentioned she looked familiar the first time you saw her. She’s magical, no doubt about it, only her aunt lied about it for all her life. And yesterday, when I gave her my wand, mate, she looked so much like the Minerva I knew when I was young. The resemblance was uncanny.”

“I don’t know.” Blaise shook his head. “You really think it’s her? Do you even realise how absurd your story sounds.”

“Yeah, I do, it even sounds absurd to me, but I’m sure of it. We need to get her to Hogwarts, have her visit McGonagall.”

“Right, ok, I can see if I can get a Portkey to Hogsmeade.” Blaise glance towards the lounge. “Why is she so … lifeless?”

“Her aunt has been feeding her lies her entire life. She didn’t take that well. I’m worried about her.”

A smile lit up Blaise’s face. “Well then, let’s see if I can cheer her up.” He strode off.

“Blaise! Wait!” Draco yelled after him, to no avail. He hurriedly followed his friend.

Blaise dropped himself next to Hermione, plucking the book out of her hands. “You haven’t even said hello to me, you hurt my feelings.”

She blinked at him in confusion.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten this handsome face and drop-dead gorgeous body, now have you? Oh no! You have! That is inexcusable. But seeing that you’ve had Draco distracting you, I’ll forgive you, but only this once.” He took her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “The name is Blaise, Blaise Zabini, a good friend of Draco’s, only better looking.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “So not true, mate.”

“See?” Blaise whispered to Hermione conspiratorially. “He’s jealous!”

“Seriously Zabini? That’s the best you can come up with?”

They started bickering, and from the corner of his eye he could see a small smile tugging at the corners of Hermione’s lips. She was watching them, her eyes going from one to another, like watching a ping-pong match. Blaise was still holding her hand. Draco wanted to rip it out of his grasp and hold onto it himself. He took a deep breath to steady his emotions.

“Don’t you have a portkey to acquire?”

Blaise once more turned towards Hermione. “I won,” he said in that same, whispered tone, winking at her. He spoke up. “Yes, I do. I’ll have it delivered to your room, tomorrow morning at the latest. Bye Sweetheart, I’ll see you around.”

He rose and walked past Draco, clamping a hand on the latter’s shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Draco. This pot wasn’t meant to be stirred again.”

Draco nodded in acknowledgement. “Thanks Blaise, I’ll let you know what happened.”

With another small bow to Hermione, Blaise turned and walked away.

“I like your friend,” Hermione mused.

Draco bristled at her words, but tried not to let it show, giving her a smile.

“I like you more though,” she added carelessly, grabbing her book and starting to read in earnest.

Draco felt like his heart would explode from happiness.

xXxXxXx

The portkey was delivered later that evening. They had spent their day at the hotel, Draco noticing that Hermione wasn’t up to going into the city and not even suggesting it. Instead, he taught her how to play chess. She was a quick learner.

“When do we leave?” Hermione asked when he put the envelope with the portkey on the bedside table.

“It’s activated with a spell. We can leave whenever you feel ready.” He watched her fidget. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring intently at her hands.

“I-“ She fell silent.

He went to sit next to her. “What’s on your mind, princess?”

“Are you sure?”

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him. She sounded so small, so scared. He couldn’t stand it. “I’m pretty sure, yes, but we’ll never know for certain unless we go there and find out. You deserve so, so much more than being locked up in that tower.”

“But what if you’re wrong? What if my parents did die in a fire and I’m not who you think I am? What then?”

“Then we go from there. Either way, I will protect you, princess. Trust me?”

She nodded against his shoulder. He now wrapped both his arms around her, causing her to curl up against his side. “It will be fine,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head and hoping he spoke the truth.

The next morning, after breakfast, Draco found himself in the alleyway next to the hotel, a nervous Hermione standing in front of him. It had been a long night. She had been unable to sleep, tossing and turning until he once more pulled her against him. For long hours, he had murmured sweet nothings to her, hoping to calm her down. By the time dawn came, she finally fell asleep.

He stretched out his hand, the stone portkey laying in his palm. “Let’s go find out who you really are,” he said.

Her eyes flickered between his and the portkey. The nod she gave him was nearly imperceptible, but she reached out and put her hand over his, trapping the portkey. Pulling out his wand, he transported them both to the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

Hermione was shaking like a leaf. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, giving her a clear view of the castle. Her mouth fell open in surprise.

“That, dear princess, is Hogwarts. The best wizarding school in the world.”

“You didn’t tell me it was a castle!” she exclaimed. “It’s magnificent!”

He wrapped his arms around her. “I know,” he smirked. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s where you learned how to use magic?”

“Yes.”

They both looked at the castle for a while, Hermione in awe, Draco with nostalgia. He had a lot of fond memories that took place within those walls. He vividly remembered the feasts, the time spend in the common room, on top of the Astronomy Tower (not always for classes) and the many successful pranks.  _ She would have studied in those halls, just as I did, were it not for this wretched aunt of hers. _

“Come on,” he eventually said, “let’s go see if Rosmerta has a room for us to stay in.”

“Rosmerta?”

“She owns the Three Broomsticks, a popular inn in the village.”

The started walking down the path towards the village. Hermione was looking around with wide eyes. For a moment, he took the time to really look at the village as well. He’d been here so often, he hardly noticed the charming houses and all the magic freely displayed in the windows. Happy that she was momentarily distracted from her worries, Draco slowed down and gave her the time to look around.

“I knew you would eventually come here!” a shrill voice yelled behind them.

Draco spun around, instinctively pulling Hermione behind him. “Allison  Blair ?” he exclaimed, vaguely recognising the woman.

Hermione peeked over his shoulder. “Aunt Ellis? What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! I'm just going to warn you but the next chapter is going to take some time to write. I'm having some trouble figuring it out. It's like a circus in my head. So, sorry for the delay, in advance.


	13. I Want You Back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is for LaBelladoneX, for kicking my ass so I would keep writing, and for helping me out. Loads of love, hun!
> 
> Warning: This chapter might have some triggers in it, read with caution.

He turned slightly to look at her. “This is your Aunt Ellis?”

“Yes,” she replied, distracted. “Aunt Ellis, how did you find us? And what has happened to you? You look sick.”

Draco clamped down on Hermione’s hand as she tried to step around him and towards her aunt. He watched the woman take a deep breath, as if to steady herself.

“Hermione, dear, I’ve been trying to find you. You had me all worried! I was so afraid when you weren’t home. I thought you were kidnapped! Didn’t I tell you about the bad people?”

“But I left you a note.”

“Yes!” Draco watched as Allison closed her eyes and took another deep breath. “Yes, dear, you did. But I was still worried. You know how much I care about you. And I was afraid somebody might have forced you to write that note. Why didn’t you return when you said you would? Why didn’t you let me know where you were going. You made me sick with worry!”

Behind him, he could feel Hermione fidgeting. He didn’t like the way this Aunt was talking to her; he could sense the manipulation from a mile away and it was obvious it was working.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Ellis,” Hermione said, sounding morose. “I just- I wanted to see the world. I wanted to see for myself.” She stepped forward to stand beside Draco. He let her, but refused to let go of her hand.

“And did you see it?” Draco detected a hint of worry in the woman’s voice.

“Yes! Yes, I did!” Hermione answered with a beaming smile. “It’s beautiful out there, Auntie! Why didn’t you want to show me? Draco took me to see the Magical Wonders.” Her happiness died as quickly as it came, and a frown marred her forehead. “Why didn’t you tell me about magic, Aunt Ellis?”

Draco didn’t like the way the woman glanced at him. “I wanted to protect you, Sweetie. Magic can be dangerous, just like people.”

“But-“

“You have to believe me, Hermione, dear. This … boy … may have been kind, but you’ve been incredibly lucky. There are a lot more evil men out there than there are friendly ones. And believe me, his kindness won’t last long. Before you know it, he will lose his interest in you and betray you. Who are you going to believe? A boy you’ve known for two weeks? Or me? Auntie knows best, Hermione, you know that.”

Hermione glanced up at him and he squeezed her hand in support. “You know that’s not true, princess,” he whispered, looking her in the eye.

“See, my dear, he’s been whispering sweet words to you, hasn’t he? They all do, Hermione, they whisper sweet words so you’ll trust them and then they leave you. Don’t believe what he says, it’s not true, I’ve seen it a million times. Come with me, I will protect you from all the pretenders out there.” She held out her hand, beckoning Hermione over.

“But- But- Aunt Ellis, I trust him.”

Draco could feel his heart swell, to still trust him after all her aunt told her. His mouth curled up in a smile.

“I really do,” Hermione continued. “He kept me safe. He bought me clothes, don’t you see what I’m wearing? It’s beautiful, isn’t it? And I really like him. He’s really sweet.” She blushed slightly, remembering the times he kissed the top of her head or wrapped his arms around her. “And his magic is so beautiful, and easy. Did you know it can keep you warm when you are cold? And he found a way to braid my hair!”

“Yes, I know all that, dear.” The woman once known as Alison shot him an aggravated, yet somehow calculating look. “But did he also tell you that magic can kill? That it can be used to harm people? Make them sick? Cut them open? Control them? Make them feel excruciating pain?”

Draco felt his stomach drop as Hermione paled and took a step away from him, almost letting go of his hand.

“Is that true?” she asked in a small voice, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He chose his words carefully. “Sadly enough, yes, princess, it’s true. But those spells are forbidden. They are called Dark Magic and severely penalised. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You lied to me?”

“No, Hermione, no. It was never my intent to lie! You were so full of joy, so happy and curious when we first met. I wanted you to have a good time, for you to have fun. I merely wanted to keep you away from the dangerous parts of this world. I, too, want to keep you safe. Please don’t doubt me, princess.”

When she didn’t respond, he turned towards the woman he thought dead. “If you know the dangers of this world so well, why did you never teach her to defend herself?” he questioned. “You left her defenceless, in a tower.”

The woman bristled. “It was well hidden! Nobody was supposed to find it!”

“Still I did. Why were you keeping her hidden? Tell me, why wasn’t she even allowed outside? Is that a way to raise a child?”

“She is precious.” Alison turned back to Hermione. “See, my dear, he doesn’t see how special you are. To him, you’re just another girl.”

“Because of the glowing, healing hair?” Draco interrupted.

“You told him?!” Aunt Ellis shrieked at Hermione, taking an aggressive step forwards.

Hermione flinched and moved back towards him. He took the opportunity to pull her partly behind his back again. There was something ‘off’ about the woman standing in front of them, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“I did,” Hermione said, barely audible. “It’s fine, Auntie. He hasn’t tried to make me use it. He just braids it for me, with magic. That’s all. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, dear.” Another one of those steadying breaths. “I didn’t mean to shout at you. It’s just, you are putting yourself in danger, Hermione. Come home with me, we will sort this out later.”

“I don’t want to go back to the tower, Aunt Ellis.”

“Excuse me?”

Hermione stepped in even closer, almost leaning against him. “I don’t want to go back?”

Alison glared, first at Hermione, then at him. Draco could feel magic starting to swirl. “You!” she accused. “What crazy ideas did you put in my niece’s head?”

He lifted his chin and pulled back his shoulders. His hand brushed lightly against his pants, feeling the comforting shape of his wand in his pocket. “I merely showed her what the world has to offer.”

“You kidnapped her! You stole her from me!”

Draco was shocked by the sudden change in attitude. Apparently, so was Hermione.

“Aunt Ellis? You are scaring me.”

He squeezed her hand to silence her, stepping to block her entirely from any hex her aunt might send their way. She was looking definitely unstable.

“I did not kidnap her, Alison Blair. If anything, you are the one who did the kidnapping.”

Her face twisted with rage. “I should never have saved you!”

This took Draco off guard. “What?” he asked, not knowing what she was talking about.

“Of course, you wouldn’t remember, now would you? I saved your life once. In fact, I think that means you owe me a life debt! So hand over Hermione and never come near us again!”

“Auntie, no!”

“Stay behind me, please, Hermione,” Draco warned her over his shoulder, not taking his eye of her aunt. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

A sneer stretched Alison’s lips in a thin line. “I used to work for the Department of Magical Accidents, as you must know, Draco Malfoy. You were quite the prodigal child, showing magic at a very early age. Oh, your parents were adept enough to mask or fix your little bursts of accidental magic. One time, however, you nearly killed yourself. I made it to the Manor just in time to save your sorry little ass. What a mistake that turned out to be.”

“That explains why my parents used to invite you to the Manor. I thought it was only because you were such a good friend of McGonagall. But, as you are no doubt aware, a life saved in the line of duty negates any possible life debt. You saved me as part of your job, therefore I have no debt to repay you. Did you really think I would fall for such a lowly trick?”

“Draco, people are watching,” Hermione piped up from behind him.

He glanced around the street to see that there were several onlookers, Rosmerta being one of them.

“I demand you give Hermione back to me!” Alison screeched.

“I will do no such thing!” Draco boomed. “Hermione can decide for herself and she has stated she does not want to return to your tower!” He tried to steady himself. “It is clear to me that you are unwell. Let me call in a medic from St. Mungo’s.”

“No!” Alison whipped out her wand. “You will hand her over willingly or I swear to Merlin, I will take her from you!”

“Aunt Ellis, no! What are you doing?” Hermione peeked around Draco’s shoulder, eyes wide with fear. “Don’t hurt him, Auntie!”

Alison smirked as she spotted Hermione. Moving her wand away from Draco’s chest, she aimed at her niece. “ _ Imperio _ .”

Draco swirled around, picking Hermione up and only barely avoiding Alison’s spell. He pushed Hermione away from him. “Hide!” he yelled, before grabbing his wand and turning to face the deranged woman.

“Expelliarmus!”

“Protego!”

“Alison, don’t do this! You’re scaring Hermione!”

“I don’t care. In fact, good! If she’s scared of me, she’ll listen. That’s all I need her to do. That’s all I ever needed her to do!”

She slashed her wand and a sickeningly yellow spell flew his way. Draco dodged. He wanted to curse at the woman, ask her why on earth she was doing all this. He wanted to demand she’d stop. Most of all, he was desperate to look around and make sure Hermione was safe, but spells were flying his way and he needed all his wit in order to keep blocking and dodging them.

“Aunt Ellis, stop! Please stop!”

Draco could hear Hermione sobbing from his right. Alison was temporarily distracted and he took advantage to go into the offense, hoping it would deter her from attacking Hermione again.

Alison and Draco were equally matched, however, he could feel himself tiring. Sweat started dripping down his face and his grip on his wand was turning slick. He didn’t recognise half the spells the woman was hurtling at him. Knowing his fair share of Dark Magic, he doubted he wanted to get hit by any of them.

“Please, Auntie, please. I’ll go with you. Just stop! Please don’t hurt him, Aunt, I’ll go with you, I promise!”

“Hermione, no!” he shouted. “I will not allow her to take you ba-”

A purple spell hit him on the left shoulder. For a moment he was simply stunned, then pain started radiating from the impact point. It felt as if his lungs and heart were trying to squeeze themselves to a pulp. He could hear screaming; it took him a while to figure out it was his own voice he heard. Blood was pounding in his head as he tried to fight the pain. He could not,  _ would not _ , let this crazy woman take away his Hermione. He told her he would protect her!

**xXxHermionexXx**

Hermione stared at the scene in front of her. She didn’t understand why her aunt was acting the way she was. Why was she so angry? They could stay together outside of the tower, no? Why was it so necessary that she went back? She didn’t want to; she wanted to stay with Draco and see more of the world - learn more about magic.

When the light came flying her way and Draco pulled her to safety, she didn’t know what to do. What just happened? Was her aunt trying to hurt her? That couldn’t be right, could it? When Draco told her to hide, she had stumbled back, her eyes wide as both he and Aunt Ellis started throwing spells at each other.

“No! No! No!” she sobbed. She couldn’t believe the things her aunt was saying.  _ Do I really mean so little to her? Doesn’t she love me? Why is she so desperate? _

“It will be all right, girl,” an unfamiliar, female voice said behind her. “I’ve sent for help, they’ll be here soon. Just pray Mister Malfoy can hold his own until then.” Hermione hardly noticed the kind words; when Draco nearly fell to dodge a spell, she sprung into action.

“Aunt Ellis, stop! Please stop!”

For a moment, it seemed like her aunt would listen but she sneered and turned back to the duel, spewing vile insults at Draco. Hermione wished she had magic, wished there was something she could do other than watch Draco fight for her.

Hermione winced as Draco only barely escaped a red stream of light. Surely, surely her aunt would stop if she promised to go with her? This would all stop and Draco would be safe. She might never see him again, but at least she would know he was well. It was she who got him into this mess in the first place.

She shouted her promise into the fight. Draco’s protective reply didn’t surprise her but the vehemence in his voice did. When the purple light flew his way, time seemed to slow. Hermione could see he wouldn’t be able to dodge this time. She saw the surprised look on Draco’s face right before the spell hit him and he fell to the ground. When his body hit the cobblestones, time rushed back to its normal pace.

“Nooooo!” Hermione screamed.

She rushed towards him but her aunt got there first. With a terrifying grin on her face, Alison grabbed Hermione’s upper arm. Her grip was like a vice.

Chortling, she kicked Draco in the ribs. “Not so confident now, are you?”

Hermione fought against the hand holding her, desperate to reach Draco. The wails coming from him tore her apart. Seeing him curled up into a ball broke her heart. She would not leave him! How could her aunt do this? Why? Why? Why? Her mind felt like it had shattered into a million pieces, but one thing stood out clear; she would not leave him now, not while he was hurting.

“Come on, Hermione, we’re done here,” Alison said, roughly pulling her arm.

“No! No, Auntie, we can’t leave him. He’s injured. Aunt Ellis, please!” She tried to reach Draco, fighting with all her strength, but it was for naught.

Alison ruthlessly dragged her along, to the edge of the village and away from Draco. “You no longer have to worry about him, my dear. Like I told you, he was lying to you. I’ve spared you heartbreak.”

Hermione leaned away from her aunt, trying to pry the fingers away from her arm. “Please. Let me go! Please!”

“What has happened here? Let go of the girl!”

Alison stopped and stiffened at the sound of the new voice. Hermione cringed in fear as her facial expression turned downright wicked. Looking over her shoulder, Hermione saw a slender, regal looking woman with her hair pulled tightly into a bun at the nape of her neck. Behind her stood two others; one remarkably short man and an athletic looking woman with spiky, grey hair.

“Minerva McGonagall,” her aunt said, turning slowly, “I hoped to avoid you.”

The woman at the front stepped back, her eyes wide in shock. “Ali? Alison Blair?”

Gasps were heard from all around. Hermione ignored the conversation and the commotion around her, taking advantage of her aunt’s distraction to pull herself free. She rushed over to Draco’s side while, behind her, the drama unfolded.

“Alison? Is that really you? How are you still alive? I thought you died; you died in the fire, together with…”

“I still can’t believe you actually went with it,” Alison interrupted. “I thought you would have more faith in me, Minnie.”

“But, I… Why didn’t you let us know you survived? Why leave us in the dark?” Her two companions stepped in front of McGonagall, who had lowered her wand in confusion. “If you survived, did..” Minerva stared at Hermione, realisation dawning on her face, her eyes filling with tears. “Hermione? That’s- That’s my daughter?” She frowned. “But we found two bodies. A woman and a child.”

Alison snorted. “I must say, you were always a quick thinker, but that was fast, even for you.” Minerva looked at her long-time friend, turmoil obvious in her eyes. “It’s going to be so much harder to disappear again, now that you know we’re still alive. I guess you won’t let me Obliviate you? It would be so much easier.”

Minerva frowned. “We found two bodies…” she repeated. Her eyes narrowed and her wand snapped up. “WHY?” she roared. “WHY DID YOU TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME?”

A cold laugh escaped Alison’s lips as she raised her wand to rival Minerva’s. “For her hair, of course! What else?”

“What did you do to her?”

“Do to her? My dear friend, you think so ill of me. I did nothing to her, of course, can’t you see she’s all grown up and in one piece? It really is too bad the hair can’t be cut off and sold. It would have made such a profit!”

Minerva blanched. “So you stole her and sold her to people for healing?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

“No, no, no, you have it all wrong. I kept her safely hidden. It wouldn’t do to risk others stealing her away from me. No, that wouldn’t do at all.”

“Then tell me why you took her!” Tears started rolling down Minerva’s face. “We were friends, Ali. Why did you do this to me?”

“BECAUSE I KNEW YOU WOULD NEVER LET HER HEAL ME!” Alison took a deep breath. “You’re precious little Hermione with the magical hair. But what good was it if you didn’t let her use it?”

“Heal you?”

“Yes, heal me. You never really did notice I got sick now, did you? Too busy with your perfect little child and your perfect life with your perfect husband.” Alison scoffed. “I didn’t want to interrupt on your  _ perfection _ . How could I? It didn’t take the Healers of St Mungo’s long to figure out it was a terminal disease. Something genetic I inherited from my Muggle mother, somehow mutated because of my magic. They were all so apologetic when informing me there was no cure. The people I worked with, the Healers that examined me, all looked at me with pity, as if I was already dead!”

“Ali…”

Alison ignored Minerva. “But I wasn’t going to leave it at that! Me! One of the most knowledgeable emergency witches the Ministry has ever seen. Me, who turned down a job with the Unspeakables. No! I was  _ not  _ going to die! So I did what I did best, I researched.”

“Your special project,” Minerva breathed, “the one you wouldn’t let me help you with.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to, missy. The Hat was right to put you in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. For all your cleverness, you never really did get what the pursuit of knowledge is all about. And you were so gullible. All those nightly trips to the library you caught me on? Did you really believe it was to study in peace?” She laughed. “Those times you didn’t catch me, I went to the Restricted Section. What use is there in knowing the Light, if you don’t know the Dark that offsets it?”

Minerva shook her head. “What are you telling me? That you went into the Dark Arts in search for a cure?”

“Ooh, Minnie, I didn’t go ‘into’ it in search for a cure, I ‘went back’ to it. You were such a goody two shoes, I knew you would never approve, so I never told you. I’ve studied it for years. I only stopped researching it in private when I could do so legally for the job. It’s odd how life turns out sometimes, isn’t it?”

“The two bodies…”

“Ah, yes, the two bodies.” Alison grinned. “A lowly Muggle woman and her daughter.” The grin disappeared as quickly as it came. “Lowly indeed. The life force of a woman, her child to offer it for, death the toll to pay. It was supposed to heal me! Renew my life force and burn away the disease! But it didn’t work!”

“You used them in a ritual,” Minerva gasped. “You sacrificed them?”

“Yes, yes, do try to keep up, Minnie,” Alison replied irritably, carelessly waving her wand around. “I knew there was only one thing left that could save me, well, someone, really. And then you asked me to babysit. It was like a gift send by Merlin himself! One filled with false hope. I persuaded little Hermione to ‘let her hair glow’ to show her Auntie ‘how much she loved her’.”

Alison looked up at Minerva, her eyes wild. “For a moment, I thought it had worked! I felt better! But then I cast the diagnosis spells and realised it was only temporary! There was no cure, no way for me to heal. Then I realised: As long as I had Hermione to heal me, I wouldn’t need a definite cure, she was a temporary one. She could keep me alive.”

She chuckled. “It really was a message from Merlin. You see, I already had two dead bodies to cover up the tracks. At the time, I was yet to dispose of them. What better way than with a fire, posing as me and your little girl? It was a brilliant plan, if I may say so myself. And you actually fell for it!” Alison laughed outrageously, Minerva’s threatening stance completely forgotten by the deranged woman. “You just fell for it!”

Minerva swallowed harshly, her face wet with tears. “ _ Incarcerous! Langlock! _ ” Ropes flew out of her wand and Alison found herself unable to speak. “I should use the knowledge you so mocked me for against you, see how long you hold up, but I think I’ll just let your disease break you down. You are not the friend I once had, not the woman I so cherished. You are already dead to me.” With a last disgusted and saddened look at Alison, Minerva turned her back on her.

xXxXxXx

Hermione was only vaguely aware of all that was happening behind her. By the time she reached Draco, he had stopped screaming, lying limp on the cobblestone street. She pulled at him until he was lying on his back. Around his shoulder, his shirt was torn to pieces, revealing an angry looking scorch mark. He was breathing harsh, shallow breaths, his face deadly pale.

“Draco!” Hermione cried desperately, wanting to shake him but afraid of hurting him even more. She settled for lightly patting his chest and arms. “Draco! Please! Don’t die! Tell me what I can do. Draco, wake up! Please wake up!”

She knew she was sobbing, but didn’t care. He couldn’t die! He simply couldn’t! Draco was strong, and steadfast. He would never leave her, he promised to keep her safe. “Draco, I need you. Please don’t leave me!”

Hermione cupped his face in her hands when he moaned and his eyes fluttered. “Draco!”

“Her-mione?” he croaked. “Where is she? Did she-“ he coughed, “did she hurt you?” He tried to get up and screamed when his shoulder buckled under his weight. His breath got more laboured and he seemed to realise the state he was in.

“Don’t move!” Hermione exclaimed. “You’re injured! Please, tell me how I can help you! Please, Draco.”

He reached up with a shaky hand to wipe away her tears. “Princess, don’t cry,” he said hoarsely. A seizure gripped him, making him buck violently.

“No! No, no!”

Hermione tried to hold him down but was powerless against it. When it stopped, Draco blinked a couple of times before focusing on her face again.

“I don’t think there is much you can do, princess,” he said, barely above a whisper. He tried to smile but it turned into a pained grimace. “Did you have fun?”

“What?” She didn’t understand what he was asking.

“These past two weeks? Did you have fun?”

“Yes!” She grabbed his hand. “Yes! Of course! Do you really have to ask?”

“Good.” His eyes shifted to something behind her. “Professor McGonagall,” he said. “Fancy seeing you here.” He looked back at Hermione. “Princess, meet Minerva McGonagall. Professor, I think I found your daughter.” Locking his gaze with Hermione’s, he gave her one last smile before his eyelids sunk down and his breathing stopped.

“No! No! Draco! No! Don’t leave me! Please don’t leave me! You can’t die! Draco, please…” Sobbing, Hermione draped herself over Draco’s chest, holding onto him for dear life.

 


	14. Reunited

Suddenly, Hermione shot back up, startling Minerva who had been slowly approaching. With frantic movements, Hermione started tugging at her hair.

“Hermione?” Minerva’s voice broke when softly calling her daughter’s name. “What are you doing?”

“He can’t die! I can’t let him die! I have to save him! I can use my hair. My hair has to save him!”

“Your hair can only heal, Hermione, it can’t bring back the dead. I’m sorry.”

“No!” she screamed in denial. “I won’t let him die. I can save him! I can save him!” Tears were streaming down her face as she violently yanked at the braided bun on top of her head.

With a sad sigh, Minerva waved her wand and helped Hermione along, causing her impossibly long, blonde hair to fall down around her. Hermione ignored the surprised gasp behind her as she started draping it over Draco.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she focussed all her might on making her hair glow, willing it to bring Draco back to her. From behind her eyelids, she could see the bright light her hair was emitting. When it died down, she hopefully opened her eyes, only to see Draco lying in the exact same position as before. He was still not breathing, still not moving.

“No!” Hermione hit his chest with a fist. “It has to work! It has to!” Her sobbing started to become hysterical. She dropped back down on Draco’s chest. “It has to. It has to. It has to,” she repeated as a mantra. Her hair started to glow again, but she barely noticed. Minerva, however, stared as the light it started to emit was tinted with a peculiar kind of darkness. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

Finally noticing what was going on, Hermione lifted her head. As the strange light died down, brown spots started appearing and growing, completely drowning out the blond. Then, causing a frantic shriek from Hermione, her hair disintegrated, forming a layer of dust. She reached up to her head, encountering shoulder-length, curly hair. Pulling it to the front, she stared at it in a panicked surprise.  _ What did I do? What’s happening? _

The dust fell of Draco’s chest. Hermione thought nothing of it, believing it to be the result of a breeze, until Minerva sucked in a sharp breath behind her. “Merlin! He’s breathing!” She spun around. “Rolanda! Call for Poppy!”

The fit looking woman came running over. “She’s already been warned, Minerva. So are the Aurors, they should be on their way.”

Hermione glanced over her shoulder to see the little man holding her aunt at wand-point. A groan from Draco snapped her attention right back to him.

“Draco? Draco!” She started brushing the remaining dust from his chest and cupped his face in her hands. A glance at his shoulder told her the burn was gone. “Draco?” she asked again, leaning over him to see his eyelids flutter as another groan escaped him.

Finally, he blinked and opened his eyes. A huge grin spread across Hermione’s face. “You’re alive! I’m so happy you’re alive!” She buried her face in his neck, sobbing out her relief.

“What-” Draco coughed and tried again. “What happened to your hair?”

Hermione didn’t answer, too relieved to think of much else.

“It disintegrated after she, uhm, saved you,” Minerva softly said.

Draco turned his eyes to his former professor while wrapping an arm around Hermione’s shaking form. “Saved me?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but you were very much dead, Mister Malfoy.”

“Oh,” he said. He stroked some hair out of Hermione’s face, encouraging her to look at him. “You saved me?”

“I didn’t want you to die!”

“Out of the way everybody! I have a patient to tend to!”

Everybody turned to look at the Mediwitch almost running down the road. Hermione hovered protectively over Draco, unsure what to think of this new addition.

“It’s okay, dear,” Minerva said, “she’s the nurse from the school. She’ll give Mister Malfoy here a check-up to see if he’s all right.”

Hermione looked up at the woman standing next to her and it suddenly occurred to her this was the woman Draco had told her about. This was her mother. Suddenly feeling shy, she looked back at Draco, who was scowling.

“I feel fine!” He tried to get up but a spell from Pomfrey’s wand forced him back down.

“What did she do?” Hermione asked, panic evident in her voice. She started patting all over Draco’s arms and chest, looking for injuries.

“Princess. Princess!” Her eyes snapped to his. “It’s only a spell to keep me still. Madam Pomfrey doesn’t want me to get up until she has had the chance to examine me. It’s okay.”

“It’s quite alright, Miss,” Pomfrey said upon arrival. “Mister Malfoy never did stay in bed as ordered back when he was a stu-” The nurse stopped talking when she looked at Hermione. Her eyes widened comically. For a moment, she did nothing but glance between Hermione and Minerva, who was staring at Hermione herself.

“Minerva? Is that…?” she asked

“Yes,” Minerva answered.

“How?”

“It’s a long story,” Draco interrupted. “Now could you please lift this spell? I’m fine!”

“You’re not fine until I say so, Mister Malfoy.” Pomfrey revered back to her professional self. “Now, what happened?”

"I got hit by a dark curse and was healed by Hermione. There's not much left for you to do, Madam Pomfrey."

"It's a bit more complicated than that, Mister Malfoy," McGonagall chided at the same time Pomfrey glared down at her patient. "Again, I will be the judge of that, Mister Malfoy."

Hermione watched as the three politely bickered amongst themselves; well, the two women bickered with Draco, to be more precise. Even while arguing with Draco and listening to McGonagall's explanation, the nurse was casting spells over her patient. Hermione figured the colours and patterns that emerged after each spell actually had meaning to the women, they only looked pretty to her. They didn't seem to harm Draco, so Hermione merely watched.

"It seems you don't have so much as a scratch on you, Mister Malfoy," Pomfrey finally said. Draco gave her a 'told you so look' and tried to get up from the ground. A tap of Pomfrey's wand knocked him back down. "Still," the woman continued, "I want you on bedrest for at least 24 hours. Even magical healing needs energy and I don't want you suddenly collapsing from exhaustion."

"You've got to be kidding me?" Draco protested as a stretcher was summoned from thin air. "For Merlin's sake, woman, at least let me walk to the castle!"

"That would be rather counter-productive," Pomfrey said.

"I refuse to be carried away! I feel fine! Besides, you're right there to catch me if I collapse, right?"

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "I'll be there to patch you up after you've fallen."

Draco faked a shocked gasp, covering his heart with his hand and causing Hermione to giggle. "Do I mean so little to you? Woman, you wound me!"

"Enough with the theatrics, Mister Malfoy," McGonagall said, hiding a slight smile. "I must go talk to the Aurors, they will no doubt want to speak to you two later on. I suggest you make sure you're settled before they arrive."

With a wary glance at Madam Pomfrey, Draco pushed himself up. Hermione rushed over, helping him stand and feeling herself enveloped in his arms.

"Are you ok, Princess?" he whispered in her ear.

"I thought you were dead. I thought I was going to lose you!"

"I'm alright, Princess. I'm right here. Let's go up to the castle and talk, hmm? Before Poppy decides I'm better off on a stretcher anyway."

Hermione let out a small laugh at his comment. When he grabbed her hand and started walking, she easily fell into step next to him, as close to him as possible. She wasn't going to let him out of her sight any time soon, not that there was much she could do, but still.

"Her- Hermione?"

She looked over her shoulder at the slightly broken sound of McGonagall's voice.

"Can I see you later? To talk?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. She felt Draco squeeze her hand and returned her attention to him.

"You're going to love her," he whispered, nodding to the woman in question. "And you're going to love the castle, come on."

He was right, as usual. She stared as they walked up the path to the magnificent castle. The buildings and its towers rose from the rocks as if made from them. Large, arched windows promised light for the stone interiors, while the many towers and parapets gave the castle an enchanted feeling. When they reached the iron wrought gate, Hermione got a feel of the sheer size of the building and its grounds.

Her amazed study was only interrupted when Draco stumbled slightly next to her. She could hear his heavy breathing but knew he wouldn't want her to comment on it; not with the nurse eying them like a hawk. Instead, she grabbed his hand tighter, shifting her grasp so he could put some of his weight on their combined hands. He merely smiled in response.

They walked over well-kept grounds, past an odd-looking hut, toward one of the biggest entrances Hermione had ever seen - not counting that of the Library. She stopped dead in her tracks as the doors swung open and revealed the massive entry hall.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?"

Hermione shrieked in surprise as the portrait next to her commented.

"No need to spook, I'm just a portrait."

Draco laughed. "She's still getting used to the magical world, sir Lansor."

"Well then," the portrait answered, "if you get lost, just ask us for directions. We will be glad to help, if you can understand us. Some of us are quite archaic in our speech."

Hermione blinked. "Thank you, sir." She gave Draco an uncertain smile before returning her attention to her surroundings. "Is that staircase moving?"

Draco laughed again. "Yes, it is. It takes some time to learn how to navigate them but you get used to it."

"Come along now, plenty of time to gawk later."

Rolling his eyes, Draco tugged on Hermione's hand and followed Madam Pomfrey to the hospital wing. She waited anxiously outside the curtained area while Draco changed into the standard, hospital robes - with much complaining - and Pomfrey ran her last test to ensure he was still as 'fine' as he claimed to be.

"I see you've been exhausting yourself," she clucked.

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

"It's nothing a little sleep won't fix, Princess. Don't worry your pretty little head."

Pomfrey opened the curtains. "He's quite right, Miss. Which is why I'm going to give him a nutrition potion to take now, and a sleeping potion for after the Aurors have questioned him."

"They're going to question you? But you did nothing wrong."

"They only need to hear my side of things, I'm sure it will be ok." He patted the side of the bed he was in and Hermione happily scurried over, sitting down next to him. He kissed her temple. "How are you really?"

Hermione closed her eyes in content, barely noticing Pomfrey looking from one to the other and discreetly walking away. "I'm not sure," she answered, melting against Draco's side. "Nervous about meeting that lady McGonagall later. She seems so stern."

"She's really nice under that stern appearance. You'll like her, I promise. And I'm sure she's just as nervous as you are."

"If you say so." There was a pause, until Hermione let out a small hiccup. "I can't believe my aunt did all that," she whispered. "It's like I don't know her." Draco merely pulled her tighter against him. "She used me. She used me like she said others would try to use me. I don't understand, why would she do that?"

The confusion, hurt, and pain hit her full force. Sobbing, she buried her face against Draco's chest, who started crooning meaningless words in an attempt to calm her down. When her tears finally dried, he had both his arms wrapped around her and was combing through her hair. Hermione let out a sigh and enjoyed his ministrations, his soft voice, and the hard planes of his chest under her cheek and hands.

"I rather like this new hair of yours," Draco said, pulling a curl.

Hermione looked up to him. "You do?"

"Yes, it suits you."

"I don't think I can make it glow anymore, though."

"You are more than your hair, Princess."

"I am?"

Draco smiled, rubbing his thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks. "Yes, you are. You are sweet, kind, smart, strong,” he put a finger under her chin, "and so very, very beautiful."

The door of the infirmary swung open, startling them both. Minerva walked in, followed closely by two Aurors. The woman blinked, opened her mouth to say something, swallowed, and tried again.

"These Aurors would like to talk to you, Mister Malfoy," she said. "And I was hoping that, perhaps, you, Hermione, would be willing to join me for some tea?"

Hermione looked at Draco, who nudged her shoulder. "Go ahead," he said. "I'll be here when you get back. It will be alright."

She smiled at him. "Don't forget your potion when they leave," she whispered at him, before hopping off the bed and tentatively walking over to McGonagall.

"Come along now, dear," the latter said, leaving the hospital wing and walking through the hallways.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, worried she would never again find her way back to Draco. She felt slightly more at ease remembering she could ask the odd, moving paintings for help, but it didn't entirely quell her anxiety.

"Where are we going?"

The women -  _ My mother _ \- seemed to flinch slightly at her question, as if suddenly ripped from her own thoughts.

"We are going to my office," she answered, slowing down slightly, causing Hermione to walk beside her instead of behind. "I'm the headmistress of this school, and Transfiguration professor. The previous headmaster resigned two years ago, said something about Muggle cocktails and obscure texts to decipher." McGonagall glanced down at her. "We never really did manage to figure out if he was crazy or simply brilliant." She sighed. "The man does tend to know everything that goes on; I will no doubt hear from him later today."

"Where are the students?"

"It's the summer holidays, so no school for them at the moment. They will be back come 1 st of September. Most of the staff have gone as well."

They arrived at a statue of a winged gargoyle. Hermione studied it with some fascination, and nearly jumped out of her skin as it stepped aside after a ' _ equinox' _ from McGonagall.  _ I'll never get used to this. Perhaps I should start expecting totally illogical things now I'm in a magical castle.  _ The thought prevented Hermione from further spooked embarrassment when the staircase behind the statue started turning and rising. She tentatively stepped onto it and let herself be carried up.

The first thing Hermione noticed as she walked into the large office were the many portraits hanging on the walls. They were all looking at her curiously, making her uncomfortable.

"Don't mind the portraits, dear. They're old and deceased Heads of Hogwarts. Meddlesome, all of them."

Hermione looked at the woman, not knowing what to say. McGonagall seemed equally nervous, wringing her hands and staring at her.

"Uhm, let's sit down," McGonagall finally said. "Would you like some tea?"

Nodding, Hermione lowered herself in one of the padded chairs near the big fireplace. She blinked as a tray with tea and biscuits simply appeared on the low table.

The woman -  _ My mother! -  _ started pouring the tea. "Would you like some sugar or milk?"

"One sugar, please."

An awkward silence fell over them. Hermione shifted nervously under McGonagall's stare and started looking around the office again. There was not much 'normal' about the entire set-up. A ratty old hat was sitting on a shelf next to some books, one of which seemed to be moving on its own. Weird instruments were swirling and tinkling on top of some of the lower cabinets, and, in the corner, a partially opened door revealed a bowl that was emitting a peculiar, eerie, blue light. The silence was broken by a whooshing sound coming from the fireplace to her right.

"Ah, Minerva, how lucky I am to catch you here. I heard there was a-"

Hermione jumped up, panicking. "A head! There's a head in the fire!" This was just one thing too many to deal with.

Both McGonagall and the head in the fire turned to look at her. Scared, and wishing Draco was there to explain things, she took a couple of steps away from the strange, green flames.

"I see you have a guest," the head in the flames said. "I'm coming through, don't want to scare the girl even more."

Hermione shrieked as suddenly, an old man stepped out of the flames, seemingly unscathed.

"It's all right, girl. Have you never seen a Floo connection?"

The man was odd-looking, to say the least. His yellow robes clashed with the purple hat he was wearing, and his long beard nearly reached the floor. His eyes seemed to twinkle behind his half-round glasses. Mutely, Hermione shook her head.

"May I ask your name?" the old man said. "I'm Albus Dumbledore."

"I'm Hermione," she answered, still not sure what to think of the man, nor of the fact that he just stepped through a fireplace.

"Ah," he merely responded, sparing a glance at McGonagall, who had also risen from her seat.

"Hermione, have you really never seen a Floo connection?" the woman asked.

She shook her head. "No. Before Draco, I didn't even know magic was real."

McGonagall sank back into her chair. "Sweet Merlin. And we're doing magic all around you without explaining. I- I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Come sit with us," Albus said. "I'm an old man, you know. Sitting tends to be a lot more comfortable than standing about." He moved to one of the remaining chairs as Hermione sank back into the one she occupied before.

"Draco took me to see the Magical Wonders," she blurted out.

"How very thoughtful of him," Albus answered, grabbing a cookie from the tray after serving himself some tea. McGonagall still had her face buried in her hands. "I tried talking to the Fae once, in my youth. Lost a bit of time, but came out all right. Which one is your favourite?"

Hermione smiled. "The library!"

"Ah, a studious mind, I see."

McGonagall looked up at that. "So, you know nothing of magic other than what Mister Malfoy has shown you? You don't have a wand?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, but Draco allowed me to hold his for a bit." She smiled at the memory. "It was a weird feeling. And he says I know something called  _ potion making _ . Auntie-" She frowned and swallowed, uncertain if the woman was still her aunt after all that had happened. "She called it Medicinal Cooking."

Albus coughed a laugh in his tea while McGonagall repeated her words in a stunned, non-comprehending tone of voice. "Medicinal Cooking?"

Nodding, Hermione cocked her head in an attempt to remember what Draco had said about it when they first met. "Draco says one of the medicines I made was called, uhm, Wolf-something. Wolfaname? Wolfsbrain? I don't remember."

"You can brew Wolfsbane?" McGonagall cried out.

Even the old man was looking at her with a strange glint in his eyes. Hermione nodded, shrinking back into the chair.  _ What do they want? Why is that such a big deal? Are they- Are they going to use me too? Make me brew it for money? _

"I'm sorry, we don't want to frighten you, girl," Albus said. "Brewing Wolfsbane is considered quite an accomplishment amongst us Magicals. Not many can get it right." Hermione merely looked at him. He turned his attention to McGonagall. "We must introduce her to Severus."

"Do you mean to scare her even more, Albus?"

"He's not that bad."

McGonagall merely raised an eyebrow at him, earning her a chuckle. Hermione watched them interact with interest. Finally, attention returned to her.

"Why don't you tell us how you grew up?" Albus suggested.

McGonagall nodded eagerly at the suggestion, her eyes bright and focussing on Hermione. The latter hesitated.

"I- I don't know what to tell you."

"Start by telling us where you lived."

Hermione looked from one to the other, and contemplated where to start. Eventually, she started with her books, the place where she always could escape to. Slowly, she started to relax, talking about how she learned to read and write, the day her aunt brought home Crookshanks, how she learned to cook and bake, and how often she had burned the bread before getting it right.

She stopped when she reached the point where she met Draco, feeling slightly exhausted. Albus was looking at her with a neutral face. Looking over at the woman who was supposed to be her mother, she saw tears streaming down her face, an incredible sad look in her eyes.

Albus pulled a wand out of his robes and cast the  _ Tempus _ spell she had seen Draco cast so many times before.

"Would you look at the time!" the man said. "We've been here for quite some time. Perhaps we should let Hermione here return to her friend?"

Hermione smiled hopefully at him. She really wanted to see Draco, make sure he was all right.

McGonagall tried to say something, cleared her throat, and tried again. "Yes, yes of course. Shall I walk you back to the infirmary?"

"Why don't I?" Albus said. "It's been a while since I roamed the hallways of this fine castle."

They all stood. Hermione brushed imaginary crumbs from her clothes, once more feeling awkward and unsure. When they moved to the door, McGonagall called out to them.

"Hermione!"

She turned, curious about what the woman would want.

"Do you- Would you like to learn magic? Here? At this school? I- I could teach you the basics?"

Hermione smiled broadly.  _ Learn magic? With a wand? Could I really? _ "Yes!" she blurted out. "If that's possible, of course, and I wouldn't be bothering you?" she continued, not wanting to be a burden.

McGonagall smiled in return. "Not at all, I would be delighted to teach you."

Hermione made to turn, but was once more halted by McGonagall's voice.

"If it's- If it's not too much to ask," the woman said, walking over to where they were standing. "Could I perhaps have a hug?"

For a moment, Hermione hesitated, but looking up at the hopeful expression on McGonagall's face, she couldn't deny the woman. Warm arms embraced her after she nodded in assent.  _ This isn't so bad, _ she thought, letting out a long breath and returning the hug.  _ I think Draco was right, I do like her. _

The old man was silent on their way back to the hospital wing, only muttering something about always having liked the view from the Astronomy tower once they reached their destination. Shaking her head in mild confusion, she watched him retreat.

She quietly slipped through the doors, happy to find the Aurors had left. Quickly, she made her way over to the curtains that hid Draco from view. Hermione was glad to see him asleep on the narrow bed. She brushed some of his hair out of his face, happy to see someone familiar, even if he was asleep.

After some deliberation, and an examination of the width of the bed, she kicked of her shoes and went to lie next to him, feeling exhausted after the tumultuous day she'd had. When she touched Draco's chest, his arm snaked around her, pulling her closer. It didn't take her long to drift asleep.


	15. Together

**xXxDracoxXx**

Draco's brain was hazy, fog-like, when he returned to consciousness. He never liked how sleeping draughts clouded his brain, his clarity. Thank Merlin this was only a small dose. Something tickled his nose and he realised something warm and pleasantly heavy was pressed against his side. Taking a deep breath, he recognised Hermione's smell, and smiled.  _ When did she crawl into bed with me? I wonder if Pomfrey knows. _

His smile widened at both implications, but most of all, he liked that she was comfortable enough with him to simply tuck herself in next to him. Her hand was resting on his chest, her head on his shoulder, and she sighed when he brushed his cheek against the top of her head. He wished the moment could last forever. For a long time, he merely stroked her back, wondering how her meeting with Minerva went but unwilling to wake her up.

Eventually, his stomach rumbled. Eying the light streaming through the windows, he guessed it was well past lunchtime. Neither of them had eaten much at breakfast. With a gentle nudge, he tried to wake his sleeping beauty. Hermione mumbled something incoherent and buried her face deeper into his hospital robes. Tenderness engulfed him and he reached out with his free hand to stroke her face.

"Time to wake up, Princess," he whispered.

"No."

He chuckled. "Yes."

She blinked open her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile. "Hi," she said.

"Hi, sleepyhead."

She made herself comfortable again.

"Hey!" Draco protested teasingly. "No more sleeping you, I'm hungry."

"Food?"

He laughed at that. "Yes, food."

She pushed herself up, scrubbing the sleep out of her eyes. He hadn't lied earlier when he said he loved her new hair. It was different but it suited her. The colour brought out the gold in her eyes and the curls softened the lines in her face. With her no longer lying down, the bed felt too small for them both. Hermione seemed to notice too, for she hopped off and dropped herself into the chair next to the bed.

"How are you?" she asked, frowning.

"I'm perfectly fine, Hermione, stop worrying about me. I was only tired. I used a lot of magic and needed some rest to replenish it."

"That's all? Are you sure? You-" she stuttered, "you died."

He grabbed the hand that was lying on the blankets and opened his mouth to answer, but Pomfrey beat him to it.

"And it seems he's a healthier man because of it, however absurd the notion," she said. "Could you let go of his hand, please? I'm going to run a couple more tests."

Rolling his eyes, more for show than anything else, he stayed still and let the nurse cast all her charms. He only had a basic knowledge of Healing magic, but he thought everything came back positive.

Pomfrey glanced at Hermione before mumbling "I don't understand it, impossible!" She shook her head and continued, louder this time. "Everything seems to be in order, Mister Malfoy. Still, I want you to stay until tomorrow morning, just to make sure there are no unexpected side effects." She gave him a stern look and he nodded. "I'll have some lunch served, for the both of you."

Not long after she'd left, soup and bread appeared on the small table next to his bed. He watched Hermione blink, then shrug, before handing him one of the two trays. For a while, they ate in silence, until he could no longer quench his curiosity.

"How did tea with McGonagall go?" he asked.

She beamed up at him. "She wants to teach me! I'm going to learn magic, just like you!"

He laughed at that, throwing his head back with mirth.  _ Of course that would be the one thing she deems the most important. _ Wiping away the moisture that had gathered in the corner of his eyes by laughing so hard, he looked back at her, seeing her frown.

"I'm happy for you, Princess, that was just not the answer I was expecting." He reached out to caress her face. "Tell me everything."

Hermione put the tray with her empty bowl back on the side table, causing it to disappear a couple of seconds later. "Well, it was awkward at first," she started.

Draco listened to her recount the walk to the headmistress' office and her description of the room he knew a bit too well. He was surprised by Dumbledore's arrival but glad he was there to ease the tension.   _I guess the old man really does know everything that happens._ _I wonder if he timed his arrival._ Her giddiness when she told him about McGonagall's offer to teach her almost made him roll his eyes.

"You're going to need a wand then," he said. "I wonder if I'm going to have to fight McGonagall over who gets to buy it for you."

"No, don't fight!"

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll happily let her pay for it if I get to be there at Ollivander's."

"Oh. Okay." She started carding her fingers through her hair and scowled. "There's sand in my hair!"

Draco nodded at the door at the far side of the Infirmary. Pomfrey didn’t bother to close the curtains after her examinations. "There are showers through that door if you want to take one. I'm sure Pomfrey wouldn't mind."

With Hermione gone to take a shower, he lay back down, bored. Draco knew there was no fighting Madam Pomfrey, but he just wished he could convince her there was no need for bedrest! With a sigh, he shifted his thoughts to the near future.  _ Will Minerva want to keep Hermione here, or will she allow her to come to the Manor with me? _ He really hoped to be able to take her home. He wanted her with him, he wanted her to stay with him forever.

A very, very familiar voice interrupted his thoughts. "Draco?" Her voice sounded really controlled, but he could hear the worry behind it.

"Here, Mother."

Her steps quickened as she hurried over to him. "Draco! Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Mother, like I keep telling everyone but nobody seems to really believe me."

"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" He grabbed her hand as she fell down into the chair Hermione had only vacated a couple of minutes ago. Somehow, Narcissa managed to remain graceful throughout it. "They told me you had a wand-fight in the middle of Hogsmeade with a woman who was supposed to be dead. She hit you with a curse and you died, but then a girl, who was also supposed to be dead, managed to somehow save you. I couldn't wrap my head around it."

"Well, none of that is actually wrong. It's a bit of a story." He gave a small smile at his mother's confused expression.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, Mother. This is only Poppy not trusting me and insisting on bedrest until tomorrow morning."

"Okay, good. You can tell that story over tea when you return to the Manor." She rose from the chair and gave him  _ the _ look. He flinched back in dreaded anticipation.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy! You go on a trip for weeks and I hardly hear from you! Me, your mother. Hardly a letter, let alone a Floo call. That is not proper behaviour, young man! And, in the meantime, I get letters from angry spouses and brothers, claiming you've been gallivanting around, bedding their wives and sisters. Have you any idea the trouble you have caused me?"

"Sorry, Mother," he muttered, hoping Hermione was still in the bathroom and not hearing any of this.

"And then," the Malfoy matriarch continued, "you practically cut all contact, without so much of a warning. You start hopping all around the world, using our name and my contacts. Who the hell did you buy a kimono for anyway? I come home from a shopping trip to find a horse in our driveway, with nothing but a note from Blaise Zabini stating you asked him to drop it off!"

"Sorry, Mother," he muttered again.

"Don't you  _ sorry  _ me! I haven't even started about that ugly orange ball of fur you had Blaise drop off as well. It has been terrorising the elves, ruining the flowerbeds, and strutting through the Manor like it owns it. There are orange hairs everywhere! What possessed you to send me a cat?!"

"Crooks?" Draco let out a small sigh of relief at Hermione's interruption. "You have Crookshanks? How is he? Draco promised me he would have fun at his home."

Narcissa stopped her little tirade to stare at Hermione, who looked happy and healthy, her hair damp from the shower and her cheeks still red from the heat.

"That ... cat ... is yours?"

"Yes. I really miss him." She looked from Narcissa to Draco and back. "Could I- Uhm, do you think I can see him soon?"

The glint in his mother's eyes worried him for a split second, before she called out for a house elf.

"Misty."

Hermione shrieked and practically ran to him as Misty appeared.

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist. "That's a house elf, they help with the household." Hermione nodded but didn't take her eyes from the elf.

"Yes, Mistress," Misty asked, looking up at Narcissa.

"Go fetch the cat and bring it here."

The little creature's ears drooped down, a frown creasing its forehead. Draco felt for it; that cat must have really been terrorising the household.

"You can bring him here? Now?" Hermione asked.

"It will only take a minute," Narcissa answered, her posture regal.

As if prompted, Misty reappeared with a writhing ball of fur in her arms. She let go as soon as she could, scratches visible on her face.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione cried out, crouching when the cat trotted over to her. She picked him up and buried her face in the cat's fur. "I missed you so much!" Draco saw his mother raise an eyebrow as Crooks started spinning.

"Perhaps introductions are in order?" she said.

"Yes, indeed," he answered. "Princess," Hermione looked up from cuddling her cat, "this is my mother; Narcissa Malfoy. Mother, this is Hermione, the woman I've bought the kimono for, who saved my life, and who is the daughter of Minerva McGonagall."

His mother paled. "Did you just say she's Minerva's daughter?"

"Yes, I did."

Narcissa sunk back into the chair. "Perhaps you should tell your story now."

And so they started talking, Hermione sitting on the bed with Crooks still purring in her arms. Draco skimmed over his partying and playboy fun before he stumbled upon Hermione's tower. He could see the outrage shimmer in his mother's eyes when he explained that Hermione had never been outside her stone confinement since moving in. He watched resolution set as she watched the interaction between him and Hermione, and heard Hermione's wonderment over the things she had seen. Her sympathy was evident when Hermione started staring into nothing at the mention of her aunt. They finally got to the present and Hermione’s tea with Minerva and Albus.

"And now she's going to teach me magic!" Hermione ended the story, still beaming at the prospect.

Narcissa tentatively smiled back. "That's wonderful, dear." There was a moment of silence before she briskly stood up and wiped some imaginary crumbs from her robes. "I must have a word with Minerva," she stated. "I'll expect you two for lunch tomorrow." With a last goodbye at both of them, she swept out of the Infirmary.

"I like your mother," Hermione said while gently putting a restless Crookshanks on the floor. He trotted over to the windows, deftly jumping on the windowsill, and curling up in a patch of sun.

"Everybody likes my mother," Draco answered. He resigned himself to that years ago. Even though he adored her too, he would never get caught saying that out loud.

"So," Hermione said, "what do we do now?"

Draco blinked. "What do you mean?" He was pretty sure his mother went to Minerva to talk about where Hermione would live, amongst other practical things, but he couldn't give Hermione any answers until his mother returns or sent a letter.

"Well, I'm kind of bored."

He laughed at that. "So am I. You want to read?"

"I read all the books we have with us."

"We’re in a school, Hermione. There’s a fair chance it has a library,” he laughed.

"There's a library?"

_ I wonder if that obstinate elf we freed still lives here. I always liked him. _ Taking a breath, he called out. "Dobby?"

There was a pause before the elf appeared. "Dobby is now a free elf!" it exclaimed upon arrival.

"I am well aware, Dobby," Draco answered. He saw Hermione frown and decided to explain house elves to her later on. "But you're the only elf here that I know personally and that I would trust with an important task."

The elf frowned at him, trying hard not to puff up with the praise. "What would  _ Mister _ Malfoy need?"

"See the beautiful lady sitting next to me?" Hermione blushed prettily. Dobby simply nodded. "She has never been to the castle before but would like to visit the library. It would mean a lot to me if you would be willing to safely escort her to and fro, and help her if she wants to check out some books."

"Dobby can do that for the Miss." He grabbed Hermione's hand. "Come along Miss, Dobby will show you the way."

Hermione smiled at the elf and then up at him. "Do you want something to read too? What shall I bring?"

"Just bring something that looks interesting." He watched them disappear, Dobby chattering about inconsequential things, like the big Summer Clean and work in the kitchen. Hermione probably wouldn’t find a book in the library that Draco hadn't read yet, but he didn't mind rereading something if it meant he could sit next to her.

It took a long time before Dobby and Hermione returned, but when they did, both were cradling books against their chests. They laid them next to his feet.

"Thank you, Dobby," Hermione said.

The elf gave a small bow. "Anything for the Miss." With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared.

"The library is so big..." Hermione gushed as soon as he left.

Draco smiled and moved to look at the books she brought back. "The library at the Manor is equally as big, if not bigger," he responded. The fact that she would need a guide and that some of the books were likely to kill her if not handled properly, he left unsaid. He picked up a copy of 'Elementalists and Their Magics' and settled back against the headboard.

"It is?" Hermione asked unbelievingly.

"It very much is," he answered.

"So many books!" She dropped herself into the chair. "Can I visit your library? Do you think the Headmistress will let me visit the library here?"

"Yes on both accounts." He smiled at her enthusiasm. "What have you brought back to read?"

"Oh, I found this book on the history of this school." She held up 'Hogwarts: A History' and he tried not to grimace. He remembered his mother forcing him to read the entire thing before coming to school. It was a rather dry, almost boring book.

They settled back to read. He wished she was sitting next to him instead of in that chair, but the bed was simply too narrow to allow it. Looking around and at the beds next to him, he figured he could solve the problem after Pomfrey's last check-up. Hermione seemed completely engrossed in her book, so he followed her lead and started reading.

Pomfrey interrupted their silence when it was almost time for dinner. "One more check today, Mister Malfoy." She ran all the spells and charms, and huffed when they all came back perfectly normal. "I'll run them one more time tomorrow before you leave, but you seem to be perfectly fine."

Draco gave her a 'told you so' look, which the nurse rolled her eyes at. Their dinner presented itself on the table, just like their lunch had, and they ate in companionable silence. When they were finished, he set his plan in motion.

"Want to sit next to me?"

Hermione looked up. "Yes, but the bed is too small."

"I can fix that. Move the chair and the table out of the way."

She frowned at him but did as he asked. He grabbed his wand and got out of the bed.

"You shouldn't get up!" Hermione protested.

"Hush, Princess. Poppy said I'm completely fine, didn't she? It's only for a little while. I'll be back in bed before you know it."

He motioned for her to come stand next to him. With careful motions, he lifted one of the empty hospital beds a few centimetres above the ground and let it float towards them. He set it down next to his own bed. Then, he transfigured them into one, big bed with a sturdy, cushioned headboard. Hermione giggled when they both crawled onto it.

"Would you please refrain from using magic in my ward, Mister Malfoy?"

Madam Pomfrey came into view and put her hands on her hips, gaping at what he had done. Draco merely wrapped an arm around the wide-eyed Hermione and raised a challenging eyebrow.

The nurse spluttered some more before holding up her hands in surrender. "You are a terror, Mister Malfoy!" she exclaimed, before turning and walking away.

"Thank you, Poppy!" Draco called after her, with a smirk.

"Why did she call you a terror?" Hermione asked. "I don't think you're a terror. I think you're sweet."

Butterflies erupted as she said this. He hugged her closer. "Thank you, Princess. She didn't mean it though, Madam Pomfrey. Transfiguring the beds isn't really allowed, but since I'm technically no longer a student here, she can't quite forbid it. Plus, she likes you. She helped with your birth, did you know?"

"She did?"

"Yes. Minerva gave birth to you here, during a massive storm. If I remember correctly, it was all quite sudden and there were some complications. Poppey managed to keep you both alive, though. If you want the details, you should ask her, I'm sure she'll happily tell you what happened. I was young back then, and it's not exactly a story they tell to boys."

"There's so much I don't know."

He saw the anxiety swim in her eyes as he looked down at her. "One step at the time, Princess, and I'll be there, don't you worry. I won't leave."

The smile she gave him made his heart burst. He put his fingers under her chin, caressing her jawline until he was cupping her cheek. He realised a bed in the hospital wing wasn't the most romantic of places. Perhaps he should have brought her to the view from atop the Astronomy Tower, or shown her the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. He could have brought her out to the rose garden at the Manor, or to one of the sculpted fountains. However, he knew Hermione wasn't a girl that he needed to impress with grand, romantic gestures. She was smart, innocent, pure, honest, playful, and a multitude of other, equally as captivating characteristics. As he looked into her eyes, he could see his future.

"My sweet Hermione. I'll stay as long as you want me to, forever if you'll allow me. You're the single most fascinating creature I have ever encountered, and there's nothing that will tear me away from you."

She sighed and he lowered himself, caressing her lips with his, finally giving her that kiss he'd been craving for so long. He kept it soft, gentle, nothing more than a brush of his lips over hers. When he pulled back, she was staring at him with wide, amazed eyes. With a smile, he patted the space next to him.

"Come here, let’s read."

A feeling of contentment settled over him as she crawled up to the headboard with her book and settled next to him, his arm around her as they returned to their books.


	16. Epilogue

Draco watched, smiling, as Hermione ran around the lawn, barefooted, playing with the dogs. She had been living with them for over a month now, and was still as exuberant and playful in her innocent love of life as the day he met her. She still loved the feeling of grass between her toes and water flowing around her feet. He stepped through the sliding doors and caught her attention.

"Draco!"

He grinned as she ran over to him, her dress covered in grass stains and paw prints. "It seems you've been having fun." Hermione beamed at him. "Why don't you clean yourself up before Mother has another fit?"

Giggling, she pulled her wand out of the folds of her dress. Draco couldn't help the rush of tenderness he felt when the tip of her tongue poked from between her lips as she concentrated.

" _ Scourgify _ ." She smiled broadly as the dirt and stains disappeared.

"Well done, Princess." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and leaning in for a kiss. "Very well done."

They had decided to buy Hermione a wand immediately, before the press could descend on them and she became the center of attention. It was a day he would never forget.

xXxXxXx

_ "Ready?" Draco asked. _

_ Hermione eagerly nodded. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close before Apparating them to Diagon Alley. His mother and Minerva were already there, waiting for them. He could see Minerva was nervous. She didn't seem to know how to hold herself, and was trying hard not to stare at Hermione. _

_ He watched as Hermione shyly greeted both his mother and Minerva, before her eyes grew wide when she took in their surroundings. _

_ "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Princess, the wizarding part of London." _

_ She merely nodded. "What are all those?" she asked, dragging him to the window of an apothecary. _

_ "Why don't you go ask Minerva?" _

_ Hermione looked up to him, trepidation visible in her eyes. _

_ "You want to get to know her, don't you? Go on, ask her, I'm sure she'll be happy to tell you." He gave her a little nudge. "Go on." _

_ She glanced up at him before hesitantly making her way over to Minerva. "Can you, uhm- would you please tell me what kind of shop that is?" _

_ His mother walked over to him and nodded her approval. Minerva practically radiated joy. They started following her and Hermione as they walked down the street towards Ollivander’s, Minerva explaining what was visible in the shop windows along the way. _

_ "And this is Ollivander’s," she finally said, "here we will buy you your wand." _

_ Draco moved to open the door and ushered them all in. Once inside, Hermione quickly came to stand beside him, her nerves obvious. He once more wrapped an arm around her, having missed her presence even for the short walk between the Apparition point and the shop. _

_ "Coming!" a voice shouted from the back. _

_ Not long after, Ollivander appeared behind the counter. Draco had the feeling the man never changed; energetic, intelligent eyes and wild, unkempt white hair. The old man took them all in, before turning towards Hermione. _

_ "Ah, I thought it was only a rumour, but you must be Miss McGonagall." He glanced towards Minerva, who nodded, smiling. "I guess you are in need of a wand then?" He started shuffling around, checking the boxes on the shelves. "If you are anything like your mother, you will need a versatile wand, one that is strong but flexible." _

_ He grabbed a box and returned. "It is the wand that chooses the witch, Miss McGonagall, not the other way around." He offered her the opened box. "Go ahead, take it." _

_ Hesitantly, Hermione reached out to take the wand from its velvet lined box. Nothing happened. She looked up at Draco, frowning. _

_ "It's okay, Princess. It is very rare for someone to find their wand on the first try." _

_ "Indeed, indeed," Ollivander agreed, already returned to searching the stacks of boxes. _

_ He pulled out another and presented it to Hermione. Again, nothing happened. They tried wand, after wand, after wand, to no avail. He could see Hermione was growing anxious, almost fearful. He stepped closer in an attempt to comfort her. _

_ "Am I doing something wrong?" she whispered to him. _

_ "No, Princess, no." He wondered how best to explain. "It is easier to find a wand at the age of 11 because then the most important parts of our character are present but we still have a lot of growing to do. The wand will grow with us. Because you are older, you are a lot more defined. There are more parameters the wand has to be compatible with. It makes it more difficult to find the right one." _

_ "But you said sometimes other people need new wands. Is it the same for them as well?" _

_ "No, most often not. When somebody loses his or her wand, they know the characteristics of the old one. It narrows down the search." _

_ "Your young man is once again correct, Miss McGonagall. Don't worry, I have never failed finding a wand for somebody." Ollivander seemed lost in thought for a moment. "I wonder..." _

_ The four of them looked at each other as the old man disappeared behind the counter and into the back of the shop. Being accustomed to Ollivander's peculiar behaviour, they simply waited. It took almost ten minutes before he reappeared. _

_ "I'm sorry it took so long. I only finished this wand earlier this morning. I had to run some tests to make sure it was safe to use." _

_ Hermione gasped as he opened the box. Inside was a wand made out of vine wood, with carvings of leaves and branches twisting around it. Draco smiled as she almost reverently reached for it. As soon as she touched the wand, the room seemed to fill with a golden light and a feeling akin to that caused by phoenix song. Sparks of green and gold sprouted from the wand's tip, only to flutter elegantly to the ground. _

_ "It seems, Miss McGonagall, that we have found you your wand," Ollivander commented. _

xXxXxXx

Draco remembered going to Fortescue’s for some celebratory ice cream. Minerva had launched into an explanation about wand care and safety, completely turning into her academic persona. Hermione had soaked up the knowledge like a sponge.

An arrangement was made; after breakfast, Hermione would go to Hogwarts so Minerva could teach her. From lunch on, she was free to do as she pleased, be it returning to the Manor, studying at the Hogwarts library, or exploring the castle. Draco stayed with her during the afternoons, no matter what she decided to do. After having been with her 24 hours a day for so long, he couldn't stand to be parted from her.

Minerva set up a Floo connection directly between the Headmistress' office at Hogwarts and his father's study at the Manor. This way, Hermione could easily travel to and from the castle, without needing assistance or going out in public. The paperwork had taken a couple of days to set up though, so when Draco had finally been discharged by Poppy, he had Apparated them to the Manor gates.

xXxXxXx

_ "I'm so excited, I'll finally get to see your home!" Hermione gushed as they walked down the Hogwarts grounds and to the main gates. _

_ Draco merely smiled. Earlier he had called a house elf to take their luggage and a very irate Crookshanks to the Manor. He still felt sorry for the little creature. _

_ Once they were outside the protective wards, he pulled Hermione to him and Disapparated. Upon arrival, at the beginning of the driveway, he immediately turned to watch her reaction. She was staring at the Manor, amazed, trying to take it all in. _

_ "It's huge!" she murmured. _

_ Draco laughed. "Yes, it is." He grabbed her hand and pulled her along. "Come on, let's get inside. We will explore all you want later, first we need to meet mother for lunch." _

_ They walked towards the front doors, which opened by themselves as soon as he was close enough. In the entry hall, he could see his mother and father waiting for them. Next to him, he could feel Hermione hesitate. _

_ "It's ok, don't worry," he muttered. _

_ By the time they walked inside, she was clinging to his arm, practically meltingmelted against him. Narcissa was smiling gently. Draco could see her elbow Lucius so he stopped looking so stern. _

_ "Hermione," he said, "you already know my mother. And this is my father, Lucius Malfoy." _

_ "You look like him," she whispered in his ear. _

_ Draco rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to answer, only to realise he had completely lost her attention. Two of their dogs trotted into the hallway and, without any reservation and with a happy 'hi there', Hermione sank down to her knees to hug them. He turned back to his parents. His mother was merely shaking her head slightly while his father was staring at Hermione, dumbfounded. _

_ "Father, meet Hermione McGonagall." _

xXxXxXx

It had turned out to be the right decision to take Hermione to Ollivander's immediately. It didn't take the Daily Prophet long before it put together the pieces of the puzzle. Headlines like 'Daughter presumed dead, found again', 'Hermione McGonagall is alive!' and 'How Minerva McGonagall was betrayed and lost her daughter' soon filled every paper. Reporters started showing up everywhere, and they were all eternally grateful for the direct connection between the Manor and Hogwarts.

Minerva took the brunt of it, reporters prowling around the castle and the grounds until she was forced to close the gates. After the press figured out that Draco had been the one fighting in Hogsmeade, reporters started showing up at the edge of the Malfoy grounds. Those stupid enough to try and enter were shipped off to St Mungo’s.

After some time, when nobody could catch a glimpse of Hermione and Minerva kept refusing to give any details, the press grew wary. The articles quickly changed to 'Hermione McGonagall, a person or a ghost?' and 'Where is the elusive daughter?'.

They managed to keep Hermione shielded from it all up until the trial. Allison's prosecution trial was scheduled about a week after the events. The Aurors had returned the morning after, right before Draco and Hermione left the school, to interview Hermione.

They wanted to question her alone, but Draco had insisted he'd be present. He didn't want to leave her alone with the intimidating looking Aurors. Eventually, a compromise was made. The interview took place in the Headmistress' office; Draco was allowed to be present up until the point where Hermione and he met, then he was to wait in the hallway. Minerva would be in her private quarters so she could intervene if Hermione became too anxious. He still didn't like it, but he realised it was the best he would get.

When Hermione decided she wanted to go to her aunt's trial, they tried to explain to her about the reporters, but she was adamant in wanting to go. Even with all their preparation, it had scared her to death.

xXxXxXx

_ "Are you sure you want to go?" Draco tried one more time. He didn't like the idea of going into the Ministry and facing the reporters. _

_ "Yes! I need to do this, Draco," Hermione replied. "I- I just need to know. Why did she do it?" _

_ "But she explained back at Hogsmeade, didn't she? Why want to hear it all again?" _

_ "That can't have been the entire story? Can it?" She looked small and insecure. "Why are you so opposed to me going? Why won’t you let me go?" _

_ He hated seeing the doubt in her eyes, knowing it was directed at him. Even though she denied it, Allison's words had gotten to her, making her doubt his intentions. He hated that he could do nothing about it, that he couldn't convince her he was completely sincere. All he could do was stay by her side and let time speak for itself. _

_ "I just want to protect you, Princess," he answered, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. "If you want to go, then we'll go." He shared a look with his parents and sighed. They nodded in return. _

_ When Minerva arrived, they Apparated to a more secluded corner of the Ministry's atrium. As suspected, it was filled with curious people and reporters. They all immediately surged towards them. Lucius and Narcissa went to stand in front of Hermione, the reputation of the Malfoy name creating an invisible barrier, while Draco and Minerva flanked her. _

_ The reporters started screaming questions, almost tumbling over each other in an attempt to get closer to them. Camera flashes kept going off. Draco felt Hermione stiffen beside him. Looking down, he saw her eye grow impossible wide and fearful, before she turned to bury her face in his shirt. He cradled the back of her head to hold her close, one arm around her waist. Minerva moved in to rub soothing circles on Hermione's shoulder. _

_ "It's okay, Princess," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. "We're here." _

_ He looked up at his parents. Lucius was using his full height, scowl, and intimidating presence to bluff the reporters away. Narcissa was looking like an angered ice queen. The crowd started to notice, and the more seasoned press started backing off. They all knew, by seeing it happen to someone else or having it happened to themselves, what the results were of angering one of the Sacred 28 families, let alone one with as much money as the Malfoys. _

_ "What do they want from me?" Hermione asked. _

_ Draco shared a look with Minerva, who took a deep breath. _

_ "They want to get to know you, they want to know your story. You're like a fairy tale to them, the long lost daughter returned. It makes people feel better if they can read about it." _

_ Hermione looked up at that. "They think I'm a fairy tale?" she asked in wonderment. _

_ "Well," Draco replied, "I've always known you were a princess." To his delight, Hermione laughed, playfully slapping his arm. "Just smile and ignore them," he continued. "You'll be fine." _

_ Nodding, Hermione squared her shoulders, and together they proceeded to the courtroom. _

xXxXxXx

In the end, it was the picture with Hermione turning to Draco for comfort that made the front page, quickly followed with her smiling up at him and smacking his arm. Draco would admit to no-one that he had cut the pictures out of the paper and hid them in his room.

Hermione had been completely inconsolable after the trial. It seemed that Allison had little to no love for her 'niece'. She only used her for healing and, once old enough, to earn money from her brewing skills. The woman had been sentenced for life in Azkaban. Given the fact that the Healers at St Mungo’s only gave her about a year to live, she wouldn’t suffer nearly long enough in Draco’s opinion.

Afterwards, Hermione would barely eat for days. She moved around the Manor like a ghost, not saying much and often staring into nothing. Draco absolutely refused to leave her side until she once more smiled at him. It had taken a full week.

Blinking, he returned to the present. Hermione was all but molten against him, happy to simply be leaning against his chest. He tightened his arms around her, not believing his luck in having found her.

"What were you thinking about?" Hermione murmured.

He tilted her chin with a finger, looking down at her. "The past, the future, you," he answered.

She smiled the smile that was only meant for him, and he could feel his heart skip a beat. Then, she suddenly seemed to remember something, straightening and stepping back.

"I learned something new," she said. "Can I show it to you? I mean, the elves helped me practice, and they say I've gotten really good at it, so I shouldn't accidentally set anything on fire like I did last time." She worried the fabric of her skirt, blushing prettily at the memory.

Draco did his best not to laugh, remembering the chaos and panic she had caused after setting a chair on fire. "The elves helped you practice, hmm?" he asked.

She nodded eagerly.

"Well then, I suppose it's safe enough. Go ahead, show me." He shoved his hands in his pockets, taking hold of his wand, just in case. Another wave of tenderness hit him as she enthusiastically pulled her wand from her pocket and aimed it at him. He started growing worried when she glanced up at him and her smile suddenly turned wicked. With a flick of her wand, she murmured a spell he didn't quite catch.

Immediately after, she started giggling. He cocked his head at her in confusion, before looking down.

"What in Merlin's name?" All his clothes were now a bright pink, his shirt adorned with black polka dots. He looked back up and mock glared at her. "Oh, you're going to pay for that, Princess."

Hermione laughed and dashed away. He gave her a small head start before running after her, quickly catching up and pinning her against a wall, her hands above her head.

"You think that's funny, do you?" he breathed in her ear, locking her in place with his body.

She was still giggling. "I think pink is your colour," she laughed.

"You'll pay for that, Princess," he repeated, biting down on her earlobe.

He could feel her shiver in response. His lips ghosted her jaw until he reached her lips, where he proceeded to kiss her deeply. He had been taking it slow, being well aware of her innocence. Once she became more confident, she also became bolder, much to his appreciation. She had been happy to follow wherever he lead her, except for that one day.

xXxXxXx

_ Draco was sitting in his father's study, waiting for Hermione. Minerva had asked her to stay for lunch, and she had happily agreed. However, she should be coming back any minute now, having promised him that she would let him take her for a walk around the Malfoy grounds. He stood as the flames turned green and Hermione appeared. Instead of her usual greeting hug and kiss, her eyes grew wide and her stance anxious. _

_ "Hermione?" he asked, worried. _

_ "Hi, uhm. I- Do you- uhm." _

_ He stepped closer to her. "Princess? What's wrong?" _

_ She practically jumped back, striking fear in his heart. The thought that she might be scared of him, might be thinking about leaving, tore his heart to pieces. He didn't understand what was going on. What had he done? _

_ "I need to- uhm. Sorry." _

_ She skipped past him and out of the door. He blinked at her sudden disappearance, losing a precious second before he followed her out of the room. Looking left and right, he saw her talk urgently to one of the house elves, before both of them disappeared. _

_ The elves had taken to her almost immediately. He always found it rather endearing, but right at that moment, he wished it did not overrule their loyalty to him. He called every elf in the Manor, asking them where Hermione was. They could always feel where the occupants were in the large building, however, they all refused to tell him. The elves were very polite about it, of course, giving him answers like 'I'm sorry, Master Malfoy, but I cannot tell you this,' and 'If sir would excuse me, I will not answer that question,' before they disappeared again. _

_ For almost two hours, he stalked the Manor without being able to locate her. His mood soured considerably, understanding that the reason he couldn't find her even though he looked everywhere, was that either the Manor didn't want him to find her, or his mother was keeping her somewhere. He was going mad with fear. Why would she look at him like that? Run from him as if he was dangerous? _

_ Eventually, another house elf appeared in front of him. "Mistress Malfoy would like to speak to you. She's in her parlour." _

_ Draco didn't lose any time, immediately stalking towards his mother's parlour. "Where is she? Is she all right?" he demanded as soon as he threw open the door. _

_ Narcissa was lounging in a chair, drinking her tea as if she hadn't a care in the world. "Draco, there you are, do sit down, pour yourself some tea." _

_ "Mother!" he exclaimed. "Where is she?" _

_ "Draco, do sit down." _

_ "No! I need to know where she is, if she's okay!" _

_ "Draco!" _

_ His mother gave him  _ the look  _ and he quickly back-peddled, lowering himself in one of the other chairs. Trying to control his fear, he poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip. _

_ "There now,” Narcissa said. "Hermione is fine, if a bit shaken and confused." She looked at him over the rim of her cup. "It seems Minerva gave her 'the talk'." _

_ Draco spluttered, quickly setting down his tea lest he spill it completely. "She did  _ what _?" He realised his mother was enjoying the entire situation way too much. _

_ "Minerva gave her the talk. Don't tell me I'm going to have to give it to you too?" _

_ "Mother!" he complained, his head already thinking about the consequences. If that were truly the case, it explained why she seemed so spooked when she saw him. It also explained why she ran straight for his mother. _

_ "Are you sure she is okay?" he finally asked. _

_ Narcissa's eyes softened. "Yes, she is." _

_ "Can I go see her?" _

_ "You can, but you're going to have to be gentle though," she answered. "She was pretty shaken up." _

_ Draco nodded. He could imagine that. "Where is she?" _

_ "She went to her room." _

_ Draco looked up. Hermione hardly used the room. After sleeping in the same bed for their entire trip, she had simply showed up in his that first night, being unable to sleep on her own. His parents knew, of course, but they just let it be. He said goodbye to his mother and made his way through the Manor, wondering about what he would find. _

_ When he arrived, the door was slightly ajar. Still, he knocked before poking his head around it. _

_ "Can I come in?" _

_ She was sitting on the bed, against the headboard, her knees pulled up against her chest and the sheets pulled tightly around her. It pained him to see her like that. She warily looked at him before nodding. Her eyes never left him as he walked in, grabbed a chair, and pulled it so he could sit next to the bed. He figured crawling up there with her would not elicit a positive reaction. _

_ "Mother told me that Minerva talked to you," he said, looking at her and making sure his body language was open and inviting. "Is there anything you want to ask me? Or chat about?" _

_ She looked so scared he wanted to wrap her in his arms and repeatedly tell her everything would be fine. He struggled to stay relaxed and seated. _

_ "Do you-" She hesitated and looked at her knees. "Do you want to do ... all  _ that _ ... with me?" she asked. _

_ He had feared she would ask that. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to spook her with the truth either. "Eventually," he finally answered. _

_ She pulled her knees even tighter to her chest. "Is that why you're with me? So you can do that with me?" _

_ "No!" he shouted. "No, no, dear Princess, of course not! Hermione, please, don't think that." _

_ "So you don't want to do it?" she asked, sounding confused. _

_ "I do, but eventually, not now. I-" He sighed, leaning forward and dragging a hand through his hair. How to explain? He looked her in the eye. "I will never do anything you don't want me to do, Hermione, please believe me. When I say eventually, I mean that I hope that one day, you will want to do those things too, and we can do them together. I don't care if that day is tomorrow, next month, or in a year. Above all, I just want to be with you." _

_ She was staring at him, frowning. "Mom said that there are men out there who do it just for fun and that I should watch out for them." _

_ Draco really felt like killing Minerva at that point. What a thing to say! "I know, they are indeed out there. There are woman out there who do it just for fun as well." _

_ Hermione gave him an incredulous look that had him laughing. _

_ "It's true," he continued. "In general, it's loads of fun to do, and sometimes people do it just for that. But that's not why I want us to do it, at some point." Draco hesitated. He felt the moment was right, but he wondered if she would understand the significance. "I want to do it because I love you." _

_ "You do?" she whispered. _

_ "Yes, Princess, I do." _

_ She was blushing and suddenly looking very shy. "I- I think I love you too." _

_ He thought his heart would burst with happiness. This woman, this beautiful, incredible woman loved him too. "Can I come sit next to you?" _

_ Hermione nodded, scooting to the side so he would have plenty of room. He crawled on the bed, and leaned against the headboard next to her, his arm on top of it and behind her, but not actually touching her shoulders. He didn't fool himself into thinking she wasn't anxious anymore. After a minute, Hermione sighed and leaned against him. Draco allowed his arm to wrap around her shoulders. _

_ "I'm sorry I ran from you when I returned," she said. _

_ "Don't be, Princess," he answered, kissing the top of her head. "You were confused, I understand." _

_ Draco's nerves finally settled when Hermione turned her head towards him for a kiss. For the rest of the afternoon, they simply sat there, dozing and enjoying each other's company. _

xXxXxXx

Draco pulled back from the kiss, smiling as she followed him for more. "Mother wanted to see you before we leave," he said, even though he was reluctant to let her go.

"Oh, okay," Hermione answered. "Why?"

"Don't know, Princess. I do know she'll attack your hair with a vengeance though, you've got leaves stuck in there."

She scowled at him, causing him to laugh. He loved her curly, wild bush of hair, but his mother had made it her mission to find a way to control it. Stepping back, he released her.

"Go on now, I've already kept you for too long."

Hermione gave him another peck on the lips before bouncing away. He sighed and watched her go. They were about to meet McGonagall at Hogwarts to get Hermione sorted. All the teachers had agreed on tutoring her during their free periods, preventing Hermione from having to follow the actual classes and allowing her to study at her own pace. In addition, the Floo connection between the Manor and the school stayed intact, allowing her to leave after breakfast and return for dinner. It was the best arrangement they could make, but Draco already knew he would miss her terribly.

He looked down at his still pink clothes, and shrugged. Since the elves had helped her with the charm, he decided to walk up to his room to change instead of simply returning them to their original colour, allowing the elves to spy on him for a bit longer. They made his Princess happy, so he could give them a laugh in return.

Half an hour later, they were all preparing to leave. His parents went through the Floo first, before Draco and Hermione followed together. They stepped into the Headmistress' office, to be greeted by a beaming Minerva standing next to the tattered Hat.

Hermione eyed the pointy hat curiously, and jumped in surprise as it started singing an abbreviated version of the song it would sing at the Sorting Ceremony the next day. Draco watched with pride as Minerva motioned Hermione over to a chair and made to put the Hat on her head.

Beaming, Hermione sought out his eyes. At that moment, he could see his future in her. He knew, just  _ knew, _ that he would never love anybody like he loved her. She was the one he would spend his life with, the one he would ask to marry him, and the one he would have a family with. Feeling like his life finally made sense, he beamed back at her as the Hat opened its rim to call out her House.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, I can’t believe I’ve made it to the end. I want to once more thank Filisgare and LaBelladoneX for helping me out and standing by me throughout the story. I would never have made it here without their support. Thanks girls! You are the best!


End file.
